


In the Line of Duty

by entangledwood (Eryn), prisonmechanic



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A LOT of kinks, Aftercare, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M, Multi, No Cybertronian Civil War, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Prowl wants it but still has little choice in the matter, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voyeurism, demons and Sorcerers au, it's kinky okay, magic used for kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryn/pseuds/entangledwood, https://archiveofourown.org/users/prisonmechanic/pseuds/prisonmechanic
Summary: an old RP between the two of us reformatted into a work cuz i wanna.Jazz, a demon with a hedonist streak gets summoned by an enforcer sorcerer trying to enter the demon world to recover a stolen artifact.  Jazz can definitely help him, though partially under threat, he finds his own way to make that happen, dragging Prowl down into a world he's never known before.CURRENTLY DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl, jazz/prowl/others
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if this is edited weird or isn't clear in some areas. The first chapter is mostly back story but each chapter after that will likely be a kink scene

This was not how Prowl had imagined his day to do. As a member of the magically division of the enforcers he had plenty of experience with wandering spirits, home remedies gone wrong, and even the occasional minor demon summoned by drunk students. But that didn't prepare you for an actual seeker trine breaking into the Praxian Central Museum and stealing the gem encrusted egg from the collection of grand magus Faberge on display. And now it was up to Prowl to get it back. And he had received a dispense for summoning, as well as a list of known-to-be-neutral demons, to do it.

He looked over the cycle of glyphs he had spent the last few hours etching into the floor, the carefully set crystals that were essential to praxian magic, and the collar he would have to fix to the demon once he'd been called into the binding circle. Nowhere left to go but forward. Gritting his denta he punctured the energon line crossing his wrist and let his fuel cover the primary crystal. 

"I call you forth, Meister. To aid me in my quest to retrieve the stolen Faberge egg."

He could feel the energy currents reacting to the incantation, setting the sensors in his wings on edge. As intended they were focusing on the binding circle, which started to glow more and more bright until a blinding flash temporarily overloaded Prowl's optics, leaving him blind to exactly what happened inside the circle.

Sometimes Jazz thought the world worked against him. Which in a sense it did sometimes, being a neutral itself painted a target on his back but his reputation didn't help. Being an entertainer could only get him so far, and perhaps starting to take on private contracts had started catching up to him. That's at least what he thought about as the summoning pulled him painfully into the other realm. 

One minute he was splayed over some bar in the realm's third circle, talking sweat to some pretty seeker who needed something taken care of. It had been going well, even looking like he may get something a little extra out of the deal but then the pull on his spark has started. Immediately after it turned into a full frame ripping from one realm to another. And then light. 

And poof. Jazz found himself in the middle of a summoning circle, drawn and bound by his true name. He ached, but unfolded himself to stand and look over who had yanked him so hardly into what would likely be a stupid contract anyways. He found himself looking at some sorcerer Praxian. And some call about a Faberge egg. He looked experienced, though it didn't quell Jazz's ire. 

"The frag do you want Sorcerer and who in the pit gave you that name?" annoyance dripped from his words as he looked the fake flier over. 

Prowl's optics were still going through a rapid reset when the demon spoke. He had a lovely voice, which tingled over his doorwings so nice that for a moment Prowl wondered if he hadn't summoned an incubus by accident. But no, once his optics reset he was faced with a well built, black and white Polyhexian frame. Lithe, yes, with plating that looked deceptively thin, but that didn't have to say much. And the grouchy expression didn't make Prowl feel any more confident.

"You will help me retrieve an exhibit stolen from the Praxian museum," he told the demon with all the authority he could muster.

Jazz stepped forward, taking in the sight of the sorcerer with interest. His enforcer paint job stood out but past that he was actually quite attractive. He was the kind of mech Jazz would accept a frag from as payment-- depending on the job of course. He was pristine, the mech's doorwings reflected the light in the room with an erotic glint Jazz wasn't used to. His plating was thick, his entire frame hinting at an edge of violence and strength that Jazz couldn't ignore. 

"And you wish to force me to do it? By binding me by my name?" Jazz took another step forward, focusing on not letting his concern show. Because this sorcerer could do exactly that if their contract was written correctly.

"That is correct," Prowl agreed. "I would prefer if you aided me willingly, Meister, but I am prepared to force the issue." 

He presented the collar to the demon, a strand of braided wire inlaid with crystal chips and glyph disks. Just to make it clear he wasn't joking. His timeline was tight enough that he couldn't afford to attempt another summoning. To say nothing of the cost of materials that he had already spent on this. His wrist was still seeping energon, and he made sure to tilt his wrist and show the demon what he might be able to gain from this. He had no idea just what kind of payment the demon would demand. The contract left that up to negotiation, not that the demon would know if he didn't ask.

Jazz eyes the collar as if it would bite him even though he tried not to show it. To be bound to a Sorcerer by force meant not only was The enforcer stronger than he anticipated but that Jazz may not have as much say in the contract as he wanted, something he was intimately familiar with. That did turn his attention to what payment he would take. 

"This egg. I'm assuming it's the same stupid thing Starscream's been making noise about?" Infiltrating Starscream's Manor would be a challenge even if he actually wanted to, "That's not as easy as you think. Something like that's going to cost you, even if we do make it out."

Prowl's leaking wrist was tempting, he had cut himself deep; Jazz wasn't some low Ranking mech after all. Still, he could think of something better to taste if he still had a bargaining chip on the table. 

"I want your spark." He stated. 

Prowl forced himself not to recoil at the demand. 

"Possibly. A trine consisting of a tricolored seeker, a black and purple one, and a blue one stole the artifact," he agreed, trying to buy time to think by covering details. He, well, he was prepared to perish in the line of duty. It was the reality of enforcer work. But it was one thing to throw yourself in front of an explosion or a rampaging monster, and quite another to pass quietly into possession of a demon. 

"My spark after deactivation, for your willing help in recovering the egg by whatever means necessary," he countered. Not that he had a lot of leverage. What he was trying to buy was, after all, Meister's goodwill. He could force him, use his power to bind the demon and have his grudging compliance, and pay him a pittance in frame energon. But that wouldn't do. If all he needed was some doors opened or a pointer about which hallway to take, he wouldn't have needed to go through all this trouble; quality over quantity, afterall.

Jazz nodded, that was Screamer, Thundercracker and Skywarp alright. “That would be Starscream and his trine alright.”

Given the fact Prowl didn't immediately decline gave the impression that perhaps he was more desperate than he was letting on. But a deceased spark in his possession was a lot different then having an alive one; One still capable of emoting through a frame. It was entirely possible this would backfire, but he had to at least try and make this fair. 

Starscream. Already more information that he'd had before. A name, even the common moniker, instead of a true name, was a starting point if Meister escaped, or decided to be uncooperative after all.

"Half of it. Alive," Jazz took another step forward, almost pressing himself into the mech, "I have no use for you, no offense obviously. But a mech of your caliber? With a high magical output?" Jazz made a bold move, hoping the double meaning came through, "I bet you taste delicious, little Praxian."

He kept himself very, very still as the demon stalked closer. He'd assumed the circle would contain him, but apparently it had picked up on the lack of aggression. At least violent aggression. He couldn't prevent the tremble of his doorwings or the flush in his field at the blatant innuendo. Maybe he had summoned an incubus. Still, half his spark would leave him unable to use the majority of his powers. In addition to reducing his lifespan, and his general fitness. 

"A quarter alive, a quarter after deactivation," he counter-offered. It wouldn't be ideal, would likely leave him confined to the city and potentially low-risk cases, but it would be better than losing half his spark on his first major assignment, which was looking more and more like his last.

Jazz smirked, proud of himself for at least throwing the enforcer off. "Fine, deal." 

It was better than being collared and forced into submission. This contract at the very least wouldn't completely destroy his image. A quarter would only be a taste, but with the other quarter after Prowl deactivated Jazz may have enough leverage to use the enforcer later if needed. 

He wasted no time stepping back and manifesting the contract and outlining both terms of it. 

"In return for retrieving the Faberge egg, the sorcerer part involved in this contract will pay in half of his spark; quarter to be paid upon retrieval of the artifact and the other quarter to be paid upon deactivation. How does that sound? Of course I'll throw in a clause if you deactivate before the contract is completed. And something on if you refuse to pay me." Jazz looked over his handiwork before handing the contract over for the enforcer to sign. "And stop calling me by that name. Someone might hear you. Plus it's just rude, Call me Jazz."

"Half once the artifact is returned to the Praxus museum, intact," he corrected. "If I deactivate before the contract is completed, you will receive my entire spark if you complete it," he offered. 

"And I won't refuse to pay you...Jazz." He shaped the glyph carefully, letting it vibrate through his voicebox gently. It was a good name, fitting for a demon of Jazz' caliber. He took the contract, careful not to let their plating touch before the contract was signed, and read it over carefully, checking for any unclear or imprecise meaning.

Jazz watched the enforcer add in the new wording. He didn't allow himself to purr at the way he said his name, enjoying the way he tested it like a new form of energon. He forced himself to focus, "if you refuse to pay I'll simply hunt you down and take the whole thing alive," he added in, though the threat was somewhat hollow, the sorcerer seemed like an honest mech, if a bit nervous but it was a threat he needed to add in. 

Jazz let his visor glint slightly as he returned to eying the enforcer, "So. Am I just going to have to keep calling you 'enforcer?'" Jazz smirked, "I can call you something else if you don't want me to know your name. Something like... Sugar wings? Bad cop?"

The idea of Jazz hunting him down had Prowl shudder, but he had no intention of refusing. "I agree," he said firmly. "And you may call me Prowl," he added sternly. "I will require the security of a collar to ensure you uphold your end of the bargain," he continued. 

He would accept modifications, on account of Jazz's willingness. But signing a contract like this and then letting Jazz run free was just asking for trouble. There wasn't a timeline specified in the contract after all.

"A security collar?" Jazz glared, "you still want to put that awful thing on me?" 

He flared his plating in defence, "I'm not some cyber hound. And I ain't a sorcerer's slave either." 

It wasn’t a matter of pride alone, but he didn’t need prowl to know that. If they were travelling through the demon realm there was no way he was going to be seen as some sorcerers toy. And he definitely didn't want Prowl getting any ideas about actually owning him. There was still an underlying fear, that Prowl may pull some spells out of thin air and bind Jazz to him for his refusal. But Prowl had shown fear and weakness, and if he had to, Jazz would exploit that to protect himself.

"I need some insurance that you won't just leave me to die in the demon realm to get the entirety of my spark," he argued. "I can fashion it into a wristband if that's more to your liking," he offered, hoping to come to a conclusion quickly. He wouldn't need the entire power he had worked into the collar, so he was confident he could remove part of it and retain the functionality it needed. Primarily something that would prevent Jazz from abandoning him without permission.

Jazz considered for a moment. "A wristband will be fine. Just..." Jazz didn't want to admit it wasn't just the collar part that bugged him, "If you want to use a binding spell just make sure I can get out in an emergency. Last thing I need is to be stuck to you when it's better to escape and come back." 

He eyed the contract, and then looked over Prowl for any signs of foul play, "Shall we sign then?"

"If I add the escape clause to the binding spell, and I go offline while you are gone, you will still retrieve the egg, and not have any part of my spark," he held firm, unwilling to sign before they had sorted this. 

No matter how much he wanted to simply trust Jazz to have his best interest at spark. He needed to wrap this up quickly though. His wrist was still seeping energon, which, he assumed, he was required to sign the contract with. But his self-repair systems were informing him that he should maybe do something about it before he...you know...bled out.

Jazz huffed, but nodded, "yeah. Okay. If it's my fault you go down I gotta still pay my debt. That's fair." 

Noticing Prowl's still weeping wrist, he pushed the contract forward. "Quick. Before you die before we even get started." Jazz didn't want to also add in the fact that he may be taking another form of payment, namely a good frag before this was said and done but that could come up later. Best not scare the mech now. ,"You've done this before? Just dip a digit in your energon and sign."

At Jazz's agreement Prowl modified the contract as necessary and then carefully spread it out on his work table to sign. 

"I'm aware of the mechanics of it," he said, unwilling to admit how new he was to the entire contract business. Normally he was the one putting careless summoners into cuffs, not trying to emulate them. Gritting his denta he dipped one digit into his energon and tried to ignore the slick feeling of it. He did his best to legibly print his name glyph at the end of it. It looked...passable. And based on the ambient energy readings his doorwings were picking up from the contract it was working well enough. He stepped aside for Jazz to sign. 

"Your turn," he said, watching carefully just in case the demon tried for some last second alterations. Or to escape.

Jazz gave it a quick look over before nodding curtly. He pulled a stylus from his subspace and a small blade. He opened one of his energon lines in his wrist shallowly. It was in no way to the extent of Prowl's injury. He dipped the stylus in the energon and signed his glyph neatly from years of practice. The familiar energy of the contract hit him like an old friend and he found himself sighing. 

"Are your hands always that Shaky when you sign these things or am I a special case? " Jazz winked and tucked his stylus back into his subspace and handed Prowl the contract. With how careful he was, Jazz assumed the pretty Praxian would want to keep the paperwork. He turned his attention to the gash on Prowl's wrist. "Need help with that?"

Prowl watched closely as Jazz signed the contract. The backlash of the magic settling, as well as the sudden absence of ambient magic, had him swaying on his pedes. He chose to ignore the remark, unwilling to admit that this was his first summoning, and for a task of this magnitude. As Jazz had said, it wouldn't be easy to break into a Seeker's manor. He took the contract and subspaced it. 

"Will you require a copy?" He asked and then stalled out for a moment as his processor dissected the question regarding his wrist. Did he need help? Did he want help? Did Jazz require fuel? Did he require this kind of fuel? Prowl knew he was supposed to feed both of them for the duration of the contract. But the lore was conflicting on the how and the what. Nothing to do but ask. 

"Do you require that kind of fuel?" He asked, voice faintly shaky. He would, well, he wasn't going to let Jazz starve. He'd have to simply double his fuel consumption, instead of sharing the cubes with Jazz. And pack some more medical patches. And try not to think about the details too much. This was why you didn't contract demons...

As much as Jazz would love to drink from Prowl on a regular basis, he shook his head. "I can live off standard rations for quite a while. But we can iron out that later. You look like you're about to pass out." 

Not waiting for a response this time Jazz grabbed the enforcers wrist and applied pressure. He hesitated for a moment before bringing his wrist up and licking it once with the flat of his tongue. He stopped immediately after to judge Prowl's reaction, only willing to over-step so far. "I can clean it," he explained, "I have a patch as well."

The first touch of Jazz's plating against his felt electric, and Prowl forced himself not to jerk away. Jazz was right. He needed to quell the bleeding, and he should fuel. He flushed when Jazz licked his wrist, a spark of pleasure in his field that was quickly quashed. Prowl knew better than to mix business with pleasure, no matter how the touch sent his lines tingling. 

"There's medical supplies over there," he gestured with his free servo towards the side of his work desk.

He'd known he'd need it after all and had laid out wipes, bandages, nanite gel, and a cube of medical grade that would quickly replenish his tanks. He didn't move towards them though, willing to let Jazz fuss over him for now. It gave him a good opportunity to try and get a measure of his partner's skill. And if he would be tempted to try and mess with the bandaging in a way that would leave Prowl weakened.

Jazz relaxed. Prowl's plating was cool against his own as he walked over to the work desk. He sat his partner down and knelt in front of him, "On my knees already," Jazz jokes, "though I'd like our position to be reversed next time." 

He brought his tongue back up to Prowl's wrist and purposely cleaned slowly. He dragged his tongue along the wound, enjoying the taste and settling himself down. If he got to do this at every chance then he could definitely get used to this contract. He lapped at Prowl for probably too long, simply diving into the seams and enjoying the last of the taste of the sweet energon. Abruptly he pulled away, and grabbed for a rag from the work table.

Prowl frowned down at Jazz at the joke. "That is unlikely to happen," he remarked. 

Because no matter how Jazz thought this was going to work, Prowl knew better than to give Jazz any kind of control over Prowl, which was what he seemed to be implying. He held still and let Jazz lick his wrist. It felt...odd. Pleasant, but odd. He watched closely, and noticed how Jazz seemed to draw it out. Maybe he could sustain himself with plain rations, but he sure seemed to prefer it straight from the source. He bit his lips and shunted the pleasurable feedback to background processing and instead mapped Jazz's thoroughness. It seemed to go on much longer then necessary if it were just about cleaning the wound itself. 

When Jazz finally did pull away Prowl leaned over to grab the cube of medgrade. As soon as the gel was applied, he was going to fuel. And then he'd have to figure out how to best modify the collar to fashion a holding cuff from it.

Jazz wiped his own mouth and picked up the nanite jell, "why? Are you scared of a little fun?" He teased. 

He wiped Prowl's wound once over before applying the jell. He made sure to rub it in but was careful off the sensitive sensors. If Jazz had to guess Prowl seemed... Not nervous but dismissive of him; keeping strictly to business and avoiding anything else. He had been hopeful up until now, but Prowl's tone seemed final and defensive. 

It would be boring to avoid any sort of personal relationship so he would have to keep trying, "I'm just trying to make this interesting is all." He grabbed the patch and applied it, careful to smooth over Prowl's plating, "good as new."

"It's not fun that I'm leery off," Prowl returned defensively and busied himself with the cube instead of the gentle care Jazz was taking with his wrist.

"And I expect our task to be more than interesting enough," he added. "Now, any preferences for the binding cuff? Wrist or ankle? And I might be able to adjust the crystal colors somewhat." No need to work against Jazz when Prowl was confident in his ability to modify the cuff until it could pass as jewelry if the demon preferred. It would retain its functionality either way.

Jazz frowned, "Well I'm not the one who pulled a mech away from Fragging a seeker." He said as he brought himself up and sat on the edge of Prowl's work desk, "and wrist. Too much like a shackle on the ankle."

"So you're familiar with seekers?" Prowl asked, hoping to make some progress on their task first. He could indulge Jazz' curiosity once they were actually on the road. He took a seat in front of his workbench and spread the collar out in front of him. He also pulled over his notes to help in restructuring the collar, stripping it of its behavior altering effects and leaving just the tethering component. 

"Any color preferences?" He asked. He wouldn't be able to change the gray and gold textured wires, but the red crystal chips might be substituted for blue or green or some other shade if Jazz preferred.

He ended up crossing his arms, and leaning back. He wasn't making progress so it seemed right to drop it for now. It was likely they would have chances later given the time expected on the assignment anyways. Still, he found himself looking over Prowl's doorwings and wondering how sensitive they were. Tentatively, he ran a single digit down the side of one.

The teasing stroke had Prowl shiver, doorwing twitching to get rid of the tickling sensation. Just perfect. Someone unfamiliar with praxian frames.

"I spend a lot of time around the demon realm so yeah. Not any one super high up but I've got a list we can start at," Jazz gave a contemplative hum, "blue maybe? Something bright? Or red. One of the two." 

With a response from the doorwing, Jazz pulled back slightly, content on watching them for now. He wouldn't admit to having never seen a Praxian before. He had heard of them yes, but they were rare among sorcerers and almost entirely extinct among demons. He could make a few assumptions based on seeker frames but past that felt clueless. He would have to find a justified reason to play with Prowl's doorwings later. If they were that sensitive it was possible they were used for more than just show. The idea of gripping them sent a shiver down his spine. Could they be painful? Pleasurable? He had to stop himself from asking.

"Red maybe," Prowl agreed. "Something to match your visor." Because no matter what his classmates or fellow enforcers would say, Prowl wasn't blind. 

He carefully began unknotting the strands of the collar, rearranging strands and switching crystal chips. After a moment he picked up a plain piece of cable and handed it to Jazz. 

"Please measure how long the cuff needs to be," he said. He tried to ignore the way Jazz was watching it, but his doorwings kept flicking behind him, trying to angle for best sensor input while his optics were fixed on the spell he was working.

The twitches we're curious, seeker wings didn't move that finely nor that independently. Jazz found himself wanting to answer those questions now. He left the string on the table as He stood and made his way behind Prowl. He laid a hand on the enforcer's shoulder to telegraph his movements, trying not to startle the mech as he brought himself to stand right behind him. 

He looked over the joints and examined how they fluttered. But before he touched one, he leaned between them, and offered his wrist over Prowl's shoulder, "it needs to be about this big."

Prowl turned his helm to frown at Jazz when the demon moved to stand behind him. He was still unsure just where they stood with each other. What their relationship was. And if he could trust Jazz with his back, and his sensitive doorwings. His doors spread wide so he wouldn't brush the sensitive panels against Jazz's frame and could instead pick up the ambient energy signature. He looked down at Jazz's wrist and had to refrain from using the half-finished cuff to measure it. Instead he laid the cable over Jazz's wrist and used it as a measuring tape to figure out the length. 

"Thank you," he said primly and turned back to the cuff, working quickly now to finish the ends of the cuff, leaving himself with a braided strip of metal wire and crystal chips about two fingers wide. He felt nervous with Jazz behind him, and he kept his back and wings rigid.

Jazz purred his engines, happy to get the chance to stay at Prowl's back. He could tell the mech was uncomfortable, but not so much as to be assertive about it. He was taking a risk; if prowl felt unbalanced around him he could use that to his advantage later but it also made the mech more likely to lash out at him. 

"The contract says if you end up dead, I get nothing. Relax."Jazz stroked a digit down the meeting joint of the two doors examining it, "You're not like a seeker at all. Do they hold up okay in a fight? How do you sleep with them? Do you have to be the big spoon?" Slowly he let his hands move to brush under them. It was something to preoccupy himself with as Prowl finished the bracelet. He didn't want to sit like a pretty thing waiting to be collared and examining Prowl's doorwings was a good distraction from that fact.

Prowl shuddered at the touch. He wasn't used to others touching his frame, and Jazz was a foreign agent to boot. He rolled his shoulders and leaned forward in his chair. 

"Please stop touching me. It's distracting," he explained. "They are sensitive, and I sleep on the side." He didn't deign to comment about co-sleeping arrangements. They'd likely have to figure it out in the field. But no need to rush. He needed to get to know Jazz first.

"Do you know where we need to go?"

Jazz huffed but dropped it for now. He would probably have another chance later anyways so he would have to make due without answers. Instead, he moved back to his place on the desk and let out a huff of warn air. 

"I know someone higher up in Starscream's Armada. And I'm good friends with someone really high up with Megatron over the 'net. So where ever you wanna start." Jazz watched Prowl fiddle with the bracelet, watching him weave the band, "Either way we should head to an oil house I know, we can meet up with either of them there." It wasn't the type of place Jazz usually took his clients, and they'd likely have to lie to get Prowl in the door, but it was a classy enough place that an officer wouldn't be offended.

"What kind of place is it? Do I need to bring my own fuel?" he asked, "or anything else?" He wasn't sure how Jazz planned for this mission to go, and that made Prowl's tactical processor itch. To say nothing of the knowledge that apparently Jazz -- who Prowl still wasn't sure wasn't part incubus after all -- apparently knew demons high up in some of the most notorious organizations. Easily half the demon related issues the enforcers encountered were related to the group of demons under Megatron. 

"Will we return to Praxus afterwards, or continue on directly?" He was glad that the cuff was all but finished, because no way would he be able to focus on anything particular with the way his tactical suite was throwing up information requests.

Jazz grimiced, a little nervous that Prowl may want to back out if he explained fully. But the mech would find out anyways so there was no point in hiding it, "it's an upper class place. Really fancy. Soundwave won't accept anything less and it will impress Ramjet and his trine enough they may let a little more slip," Jazz explained. 

He let his visor dimmed a little, to try and express how serious he was, "you can probably get standard energon there, but I would bring some in case. If someone except me hands you a drink, even if you think you know what it is, Don't drink it. If any one asks, I got your spark as part of a contract and I haven't decided what I want to do with you yet," it was best to not venture too much from the truth if they had to lie, "We'll come back to Praxus if we have the time. If not, I've got a place we can stay." Jazz hoped that satisfied the mech, though there likely were other things that would come up later.

Soundwave. Prowl, well...Prowl hadn't been sure the demon even existed. Of course, he knew demons existed. And there was enough lore about the higher ranked demons. And yet. The idea of actually meeting him was daunting. To say nothing of the implication that he would essentially go in as Jazz's slave. Prowl was already starting to regret this. But it wasn't like he had any other way to get the egg back. If Jazz, who knew the demon world much more intimately, expected to need this kind of help, there was no way Prowl would be able to complete it on his own.

"So I should make sure to pack rations and anything else I might need before we leave, because we can't be sure to come back?" he clarified. Hopefully he'd be able to preempt his tac-net by giving it some mundane task to work on, instead of getting lost in the possibilities that came from actually entering the kind of establishment that was usually only heard of in myths.

Jazz prided himself on being the mech with connections. Soundwave was one of the big guns, but he could convince the mech to help if their interests we're aligned. And Fragging over Starscream was something they both could agree on. Still, he did feel maybe perhaps a little guilty over asking Prowl to do this. But someone like Starscream was untouchable without the right help and in this case it meant putting Prowl's comfort aside. 

"Yeah. I'd pack a small bag. Rations, some essentials," then Jazz hesitated, looking him over and shifted awkwardly,"and one last thing. Um, Your paint job. Probably shouldn't go walking around sporting them so blatantly. Unless, you know. We write that into our back story, which might get you some additional attention."

Prowl nodded agreeably, mentally tallying what he needed versus what he had readily available in the shop.

"Which part of my paintjob?" he asked. He had a standard enforcer paint job, yes. With some glyphwork related to his sorcery. But wasn't it primarily sorcerers, and wannabe sorcerers, who contracted demons? "And would the attention help?" He completed the cuff and held it out to Jazz. "Do you want to look it over before I activate it?"

Jazz looked him over and hummed, "the black and white point you out. Can you go white and a darker blue? Get rid of any really blatant glyphs?" Jazz looked him over, "no matter what, Soundwave's gonna know what you are. But if we decide to meet Ramjet, he may find it... Kinky." He hoped the meaning came through. Anyone smart would see it as a warning sign and anyone else would find it appealing. And though it was a tactical advantage, it also gave Jazz a better chance with the Praxian. He would admit it was a bit selfish, but that didn't matter to him. 

Jazz took the bracelet and looked it over, examining the spell and physical properties thoroughly before handing it back to Prowl, "it's acceptable. You can put it on. " He provided his wrist like a prisoner, waiting to be cuffed. He prepared for the spell encasing him, and shuttered his optics behind his visor, waiting to deal with anything else Prowl may have snuck in.

Prowl followed Jazz's gaze with a frown. "Considering the amount of black plating, I would have to use a glamor. I assume that's not permissible? I can get some touch-up paint and cover the bigger glyphs though. Not sure how long it'd hold up though...and you say kinky. Kinky as in, he might try to interface with me or demand it as payment for his help? Or kinky as in, he expects you to interface with me, possibly for his entertainment?" Either idea sat queer in his tank, not because he didn't like Jazz, or didn't think he'd enjoy himself during. But the idea of being seen in that particular light by those around him...as some kind of plaything to be bartered with, made him uneasy.

He took back the cuff and carefully wrapped it around Jazz' wrist, careful about energon lines and transformation seams. One end came to rest on top of the other, and once Prowl enunciated the glyph they wove together while the magic of the tethering spell burrowed into Jazz's system.

"Both of us will be aware of the other's distance. You'll know what I consider too far away. And you'll know if I am in major distress or deactivated. I will remove the cuff once we reach the museum with the artifact." He explained. "Would you like me to have a copy for myself, so we can pass it off as a monitoring spell you put on me?"

Jazz stiffened as his systems accepted the new input and parameters. Immediately he went to work running through them, double checking that it was exactly what Prowl said it was. When all seemed fine he relaxed, but still found himself fiddling with it. He ran his hand over it several times. 

He looked back to Prowl, "the touch up paint will be fine then I guess but if you get comments that's on you." He tried to dance around the kinky comment for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain it to Prowl without making him too nervous. "You're pretty, with those doorwings and glyphs and Chevron," he complimented, "add on the fact you're an officer. You're someone who's supposed to be against us demons, and now you've submitted yourself to one even if it is against your will. Ya know. Kinky. They'll flirt, and could demand something like that for payment. But if we go with me owning you as a cover, that's for me to decide if it's a reasonable payment."

He found himself looking away from Prowl, as if ashamed of the fact. He fiddled more with his bracelet. He shifted awkwardly, "yeah, make a copy. It will be easier that way."

"So I should try to hide the fact that I'm an officer most of all," he asked, trying to figure out which glyphs had to go for that appearance. "I'm a down on my luck enforcer, foolish enough to think he could strike a bargain and not get pulled over the table." 

He didn't comment on the payment though, letting it occupy his processor and trying to ignore the ideas his speculation module was trying to throw up in regards to his eventual payment. He had offered Jazz a quarter of his spark still alive. And he had thought he knew how that was going to work. But he couldn't be sure. And he found he desperately needed to know. But didn't want to contemplate it at the same time. Before his processor could lock up on it though he got to work on his own wristband, using it as a distraction. It should mirror the one Jazz wore, in style and functionality, or at least give the appearance to. 

"Will you want to put an actual monitoring spell on the wristband once it's completed?" he asked, hoping to prevent Jazz from any more horrifying revelations regarding just what Prowl might be required to do to fulfil his mission. What had he been thinking?!

Jazz nodded, "the less you come off as an officer the better. And yeah, if I can monitor you, it will be easier if you get in trouble." His plating prickled and he returned his gaze back to prowl. The mech seemed off, more so than he should be for just the planning stages. They hadn't even really set up a meeting yet and Prowl was giving off warning signs. Assuming the mission was the issue Jazz pulled himself back to standing and opted to give Prowl something else to think about. 

"So what. This seems kinda a big mission for an officer. And ain't this whole summoning thing illegal? Who put you up to this?" Jazz thought over the possibilities for a moment. The Prime was the most likely culprit, though if this egg was so important it could be some sort of cover up before the public found out. Either way he shrugged and began to wander the room, "and why is this egg so special anyways?"

"I'll just weave a basic structure then," Prowl agreed. "It should accept your magic easily...and summoning isn't illegal as long as you don't endanger any citizens, and most wannabe summoners fail to even maintain a circle, leaving the demons to run rampage. Or they summon them to explicitly harm others. I also have a dispense for the summons, in the context of the mission." He sighed. "The egg was created vorns ago by a sorcerer called Faberge. He was a Praxian artisan who managed to combine extraordinary craftsmanship with intricate spellwork. The egg that was stolen is easily the most valuable. The entirety of the magical effects of this egg are kept a secret, but if they are anything like what is displayed for his simpler works it could be anything from a trap with the power to hold even a demon of Megatron's calibre to a full fledged symphonic orchestra." He was glad for the distraction Jazz' question provided him and allowed himself to ramble and hypothesize the egg's hidden secrets. He also kept working on his own wristband and in the end settled for fashioning a simple clasp. He wouldn't be teaching Jazz the magic he used to seal a cuff like this, and he wasn't sure how the demon planned to do it.

Jazz pinched his nasal ridge. Great. He was pitting himself between Starscream AND Megatron. The whole situation stank of one of Starscream's take over plans. He didn't really want to frag both of them off so he'd have to find a way to try and make it look like he was doing something good for the demon Commander. Still he sighed, "I wouldn't doubt it's a weapon of some sort if Starscream really wanted it."

He pondered for a moment, " and does that make this summon illegal then. Because I'm going to hurt you when this is all over? Even with the permission?" He tapped Prowl's chest over his spark chamber, half for his own amusement and half to watch what Prowl would do. With his other hand he leaned around and picked up the new bracelet and looked it over, "do you have a carving tool for this material?"

"No, contract payments generally fall under 'they had it coming'," Prowl shrugged. "Unless they promise someone else's spark or their first creation for example, then it is illegal." He shuddered at the touch, but he didn't let himself flinch away. For now his spark was still his own after all. He would have to get used to Jazz being close, and sooner rather than later, so he didn't step away either. Instead he allowed their fields to mingle.

"Yes, the black tool," he pointed it out, "works for the disks I set into the knotwork. If you need to carve the wire strands, I'll have to rummage around a bit to find something. Same for the crystals, though they might lose their magical properties if carved too much..."

"Nah, just need room for three glyphs' ' Jazz immediately dismissed and reached for the black tool. He kept close to Prowl without touching, happy to let their fields overlap for a bit as he began carving into the disks. He wrote Prowl's designation glyph, copying it from the contract and added "report" and "monitor". It was a rudimentary form of his magic; namely the ability to use written words to bind mechs and objects into doing things for him, but it would suffice. 

"Now I'm going to trust you not to take this off," Jazz offered it to Prowl as the Glyphs glowed a soft blue, "or should I lock it on you?" He wouldn't if he didn't have to, the bracelet would tell him if it was removed anyways. But it was a good show of trust to let Prowl feel in a little more control. They had to start working with each other rather than against each other if they wanted to make progress. 

Still, he was curious, "do you think you have it coming? Giving half of your spark for the law. It's not as if you personally have any gain out of this. In fact quite the opposite. "

Prowl took the band and nodded. "I'll lock it the same way I did yours. Unless you think that'll infer with your spellwork?" He asked, unsure of just how the demon's magic works."Every enforcer is prepared to perish in the execution of their duties. To give their spark to protect another from harm. I won't shrink that responsibility."

He was fairly sure that was why he'd been given this assignment, instead of some of his more squeamish colleagues.

Jazz looked Prowl over, thinking over his words for a moment, "perhaps I should have bargained for your whole spark a little harder. That type of loyalty and determination is quite rare." He paused, trying to piece together a little more about Prowl. The mech was smart, talented and moral to all pit. But he still came off as extremely serious and reserved if a bit nervous around the whole situation. Jazz could admire that. 

Jazz shook his head. "As long as you don't overwrite mine it Should be fine. And be careful. You don't want to scratch the Glyphs too much, "

"What is it like...owning a spark?" He asked hesitantly. He didn't step away, but kept his optics fixed on the cuff, quickly removing the fastening he's added and instead rebraiding the ends so he could lay them one atop each other and, with a single word, seal them around his wrist.

Jazz tried to smile as reassuringly as he could, but didn't know if it came off as beastly or not. "Different mechs do different things with them. I know Soundwave gets all sweet with them and keeps them around to bond them to his own. He's got like... 5 or 6 of them. I know a mech who eats them, just to assimilate their power into their own. A lot of them are used as bargaining chips, to be traded and used as slaves; alive or dead. I guess it's just really who you end up with I guess."

"And you?" Prowl couldn't help but ask faintly. He wasn't sure what he wanted, what he hoped. Of course, in the depth of his spark there was a hope that he'd get out of the bargain with his spark intact. But there was no way that was gonna happen. So he was primarily hoping for the next best thing. Whatever that might be. The smile was doing its best to reassure, but the truth of the matter was, that was in fact a demon, and he talked about the sparks the other demons traded as dismissively as a mech would talk about his neighbor's cyber puppy.

If Jazz was being honest, he had wanted to consume Prowl. The mech looked well kept, powerful, and with a good spark. Jazz wanted that. It was a selfish notion: the consume a spark simply for taste and the power rush. But Prowl's tone; the faint question asked as if the enforcer truly hated the outcome. What would Jazz do When it came down to that moment; holding Prowl down as he forced his digits into the seams keeping his life force safe? Would he bring himself to rip into the mech then, and leave him? Weakened and broken like he was nothing?

He looked over the mech; scared and unsure but so determined. It would be a shame of a thing to waste that potential. But property over a half a spark wasn't a full ownership. Prowl could still give away the other half at some point and Jazz had absolutely no interest in a custody battle. So then keeping the mech bound to him wasn't an option. 

Jazz brought himself in front of Prowl, standing intimately close. He had to tuck away this fear now; scared mechs ran and that gave Jazz cause to claim full ownership over Prowl. Or perhaps he wanted that. It was an oversight on the contract on Prowl's part-- he overestimated his own resolve. If he could get the egg AND scare Prowl enough he may be able to claim full ownership over the mech.

He brought Prowl's hand into his own, delicately holding it as he let his grin grow menicing. With his other hand, he drew a digit over where he assumed the sorcerer's chest may be. And then he told the truth, "With just a quarter? Well. I'm not going to fight whatever low life you sell yourself to next; so I suppose I'll just take it. Down the hatch. You'll be good right? While I feed from you?"

Prowl couldn't help but tremble faintly as Jazz took hold of him, the full truth of his situation sinking in. He couldn't keep the fear out of his field now, no matter how idiotic that was. The notion that there would be another demon after Jazz, a new task that would require him to bargain. But of course there would be. he had proven how far he would go in the execution of his duty. Would he be able to trick the next one into taking half of what was left of his spark? Keep a tiny portion of it free to join the well when it ultimately became too much? 

"Yes," he agreed, optics hazy while his processor tried to figure out how to escape the horror scenario he'd trapped himself in. "Yes, I'l be good." He bit his lip, unsure and foolish and scared, and added. "And if I promised to summon you again?" He was an idiot, Jazz was a demon, dangerous and wild and eager to devour him. Throwing himself at Jazz like some desperate mechling wouldn't earn him any points. Or make his situation any more tenable

.Jazz immediately pulled back. Summon him again? The blatant fear was new from the mech, new enough to take Jazz by surprise. But he supposed he had been pushing the mech around for a while now. Summon him again? If Prowl's field was anything to go by, the mech was scared of him, and he was offering it as some sort of bargaining ship? 

"What," Jazz asked, "You're offering to make another contract so I won't eat you right away? Or what? You just don't want to get caught between two demons?"

And what was this about being good? The mech simply submitted to it. Was Prowl that dedicated to his job? Would he really hold himself still and let a demon rip into him? The mech got more and more confusing. It would be difficult to mitigate this. He wanted Prowl to be scared of him, but not hate him. The mech felt terrified, and Jazz wanted to try and assure him it would be okay, but couldn't. Because it likely wouldn't be. Jazz would own a quarter of him when this was over and was expected to collect.

"Both," Prowl said nervously. "You say you'll devour my spark immediately because you can't be sure I won't contract with another. And I must accept that it is likely I will be put in this position again. I am dedicated to my duty," he reset his vocalizer, " I won't shrink away from contracting, if it is necessary. But I would...I know it is foolish, and with no empirical basis. But I feel...good...about working with you. So I was hoping..." he sighed and dropped his gaze, servos tightening at his sides. "It is irrelevant what I am hoping for. We have completed our task here and I should gather my supplies so we can leave..."

Jazz gaped, thrown off by not only the admission about working together but then followed immediately by dismissing his own preferences. It itched at him enough he immediately sprang forward and grabbed for Prowl's chin, forcing him to look Jazz in the visor. 

"It is not irrelevant." Everything the mech said exceeded Jazz's expectations-- every decision left Jazz impressed by the sorcerer. And besides; it felt nice to be liked, even if it was just to prevent owing a bunch of different mechs his spark. 

"It's not irrelevant," Jazz repeated, allowing his field to flare out in reassurance, "What did you hope for? I want to know. I know you're scared of me. You've every right to be with what I'm going to do to you; but I want to know. Please."

Prowl didn't fight Jazz's touch. His nervousness didn't abate, and a trace of embarrassment at his own foolishness entered his field. But he couldn't deny Jazz, even if voicing his hope, straight into the demon's eager faceplate, would only earn him laughter. 

"I was hoping maybe...a partnership of some sort," he admitted. The details were taking shape in his helm as he spoke. "My spark in entirety upon my retirement, for your help in those missions deemed dangerous enough to require a demon's help..."

It was tempting. So tempting. Prowl was attractive. And owning a whole spark was oh so much better then a half. And it would be alive as well; upon retirement and not deactivation. Jazz could keep Prowl then, for whatever purpose he may decide. It was so tempting; he wanted the Praxian. It was selfish but he wanted him. 

But it was also a deal that could go against Jazz very easily. Prowl could overuse him. Or use him to go against his own. Not to mention it would ruin his neutral reputation.

He kept Prowl's face forced upwards as he thought it over. The mech was nervous to all pit, and yet he found himself still asking the question on the table, "You'd sacrifice yourself like that? Even if I still wanted to consume your spark?"

The silence was damning, frightening and Prowl expected Jazz to call him a fool at any moment. The question he asked in the end only had him nod as much as Jazz's hold allowed him. "You were going to consume it either way," he said wryly. "Might as well try to make the most of it."

"A quarter is a lot different than a whole," Jazz spoke softly.but it was a chance to get Prowl's spark without terrifying the mech in the process, he moved his hand to sooth over he enforcer's jaw, content to rub it for a few moments. "We finish this contract first. If we work well, and neither of us end up deactivated, then I will consider it." He dropped Prowl's helm and stepped back to the work desk, content to simply think over the situation.

“oh. And I need to know if I'm calling Soundwave or Ramjet. Other than that, you should go pack.”

Prowl held himself very still and only allowed himself to lean into the comforting touch a little. It felt good, soothing and for one irrational moment Prowl thought being owned by a demon, by Jazz, might not be so bad. "Agreed. We should see if it would be doable before we commit." He bit his lip as he considered, using the pain to stall out his vocalizer before he dug himself any deeper. 

"I am not sure who would help us best in gaining access to wherever Starscream is keeping the egg. I'm trusting you to pick the correct one. Or even to invite both, if you believe that'd be best. And," he blushed faintly, field heating with mortification and resolve. "whoever you go with. I'd be grateful if...I consent to interfacing with you. But I'd prefer not to with another. Though...this would be the part where you show me what being owned by you would be like. So," he allowed himself to smile faintly, "maybe take that into account?" 

Of course there was no guarantee Jazz wouldn't lie to him, be sweet and seductive now and then treat Prowl badly. But Prowl could hope. He stepped back and started subspacing things off the desk. Not much, just enough for quick and dirty field magic, plus some pre prepared spells.

Jazz immediately flared his plating and spoke, "are you sure about the interfacing? Prowl we can get through this without it, and I don't think you should do it because you feel like you have to." 

They could probably do this with just some seductive touching, or a little of a show if they really needed it. Hell, he could just tell Prowl to touch himself if needed. It felt like coercion; and Jazz wasn't that much of a slimey demon. Would he scare a mech? Sure. Take what he was due on a contract? Yeah. But convince a mech their only option was to interface with him? He didn't want Prowl thinking of him like that right away. Besides, Prowl's wording had seemed so much like a test, and Jazz was determined not to fail. 

"I mean, if we can get away with simple physical closeness I'm fine as well," he admitted, still blushing. "But if we don't, I'd rather give you permission beforehand." Plus, if they did strike their bargain, and Jazz didn't devour his spark after all, Prowl was fairly sure he wouldn't get around it. And it wasn't like Jazz was in any way undesirable. Glancing at him as he worked, Prowl still wasn't sure he wasn't part incubus.

"But, we'll meet with Soundwave first. He's probably our best shot. '' And the least likely to molest Prowl.

"Good. I'm finished here. We'll drop by my apartment to get fuel and some more supplies and then we can leave."

Jazz kept his optics on the the heated components of Prowl's face, trying to decide if he was reading the mech correctly. There was really only one way to find out if he was being honest, so he nodded and came up behind Prowl and laid a hand on the mech's lower back; chaste yet suggestive. 

"Shall we go then?" He let his engine purr on The last syllables of the sentence,"I'll contact Soundwave on the way. But when we get there, you have to promise to be good for me."

Prowl would have to get used to the touch, and quickly. He managed to only freeze for a split second and then let himself relax back into the touch. "Yes, let's go. I'll...do my best to be good. But you should probably give me a quick rundown of what that means on the way." 

He was glad that Jazz stood behind him. It meant he could look at the empty space in front of him as he spoke. "My apartment is in walking distance," he added and, impulsively, reached back to take Jazz's hand to lead him out of the building, locking and sealing the door behind them. And then out into the quiet side street the office was on.

Jazz found himself surprised that Prowl grabbed his hand. It was the first really voluntary touch Prowl had initiated. He liked it. He found himself letting Prowl drag him along the quiet street, watching the Praxian navigate for them. "You'll just have to be obedient. People will expect you to be a little uneasy, but you can't say no to me or pull away when I touch. Ask if you need or want something. Say sir." Jazz memorized their steps for later, and examined the buildings around them. 

Prowl nodded. It all sounded very reasonable. "I might freeze up if you touch me," he admitted, faintly embarrassed. "But I won't pull away," he promised. Hopefully Jazz would just keep a servo on him at all times. It would be...unusual for him. But at least he couldn't be surprised and mess up.

"I've never been to Praxus before." He admitted

"It's a lovely place," Prowl said. "Maybe once we're done I can show you around?" He offered, faintly embarrassed. They didn't have time to linger now. And the walk to his apartment was short enough, and went through back alleys more than anything else, so they didn't pass anything interesting anyway. "What cities have you visited?" He Asked curiously.

Jazz smiled, coming up beside Prowl and beaming at him, "I'd love to see the city, especially if the people here look like you. Iacon is pretty too, a little grandiose for my taste but it's a lot... Erm. Wealthy than some of the cities in the south." Jazz thought of Kaon and the pits, not really something he wanted to bring up here. 

Still something else was bothering him, "Are you okay with touch? Did something happen?" He had assumed at first Prowl was scared of him due to the whole spark eating thing, but the mech was opening up and still weary of this touch.

Prowl sighed. Of course Jazz had caught how jumpy he was. "No, nothing happened. Which is pretty much the issue," he said wryly as he led Jazz up and into the building his apartment was in. "Enforcers, especially the sorcerers, lead a very solitary existence. I more than most, because I prefer living in my own apartment, than sharing with other members of the force," he explained. 

"Feel free to look around," he added once they were inside his apartment. There wasn't much in the studio. A berth, a desk, a small entertainment system, a counter and cooling unit where Prowl was heading to grab energon rations he'd prepared earlier. It was bare of decorations, though there were some games inside a storage cupboard. Not that Prowl had visitors to play with...

"Do you even live here?" Jazz commented on the impersonal state of the room. It felt so... Clinical, as if Prowl had absolutely no personal life. It looked as if all Prowl did was recharge and fuel in the space. If they did end up becoming partners, Jazz would definitely have to take the mech out more. Maybe to quiet bars; Prowl didn't look like one to go out and party. "Is there a way to help you ease into my touch? Is it a matter of familiarity?"

Prowl considered the question as he filled his subspace and then pulled out two more cunes of fuel. One for himself and one he offered to Jazz. "Familiarity would help. But on the timeframe we're working on. Maybe keep a servo on me. That way my system only experiences the 'shock' of being touched once. After that it just registers as continued input," he tried to explain.

Jazz inspected the fuel over before taking it. He'd wait for Prowl to take a sip first, half to be polite, half because he knew it wouldn't taste good. "Best to practice now," he said and grabbed Prowl's hand and pulled him towards the berth. It was the only place to really sit, but he didn't mind prowl getting ideas either

As expected, Prowl froze at the first touch, though he quickly got his processor unstuck and he let himself be pulled to the berth. His entire frame seemed to relax as he let himself sit on the incredibly comfortable padded surface. He'd invested some shanix to have a berth that cradled him perfectly. But there was no time to do that now. Instead he stayed sitting and sipped his energon and hoped that was all Jazz expected to practice. Sitting close, letting their fields mingle and their plating brush as they fuelled.

Jazz took a seat beside Prowl and just let their thighs touch as he fuelled. The taste was bitter, and he definitely didn't want to drink it for extended periods of time but his systems didn't reject it. He couldn't help himself but pill a face though, and he tried to down the fuel as fast as possible. At least he could get something decent at the bar they were headed to. He kept close to Prowl as he sent a few pings to Soundwave, asking to grab a drink together and mentioning his new acquisition.

Prowl noticed Jazz pull a face and frowned. "Sorry. Should I have gotten you something else? Or put some additives in?" He hadn't even thought about Jazz' earlier remarks on fuel. The contact of their frames was good, comfortable, and Prowl let himself lean a little more into Jazz, pushing himself out of his comfort zone a bit more to get himself used to touching. He was confident Jazz was a very tactile demon. And Prowl would have to be okay with that.

"It will be fine," Jazz insisted, "I'll get something a little more to my taste when we meet with Soundwave. Don't worry. But if you insist, the sweeter the better." What he wanted, was to drink from Prowl, but he'd let the mech move at his own pace. He simply enjoyed Prowl's feild for a while as they pressed together, "So the mech's at work gonna be concerned you're hanging around a demon?"

"I should have some rust flakes somewhere, if you want," Prowl offered. "But you don't have to drink it at al, if you don't like it." He added. The reminder of his coworkers had Prowl sighing. "Possibly. But more because we have an even contract instead of me putting the control collar on you. They'll start worrying once it's clear our acquaintance won't end with the return of the egg..."

"the fuel is fine. Really. Bring the rust flakes along for the road though," Jazz finished his cube and wiped his lips of the taste. Jazz cringed at the mention of control collar. So that was common practice here? He suddenly had the looming feeling that he had gotten off easy. 

"Have you don't that before? Collared someone? For use?" He asked quietly as he stared down at his empty cube. He was such a hypocrite. Wasn't that the same as he was doing to Prowl? Except in a more permanent sense?

"Yes, sir," Prowl said, just to test the glyph. It resisted him, didn't want to form correctly, but he got it out anyway, and would likely get the hang of it quickly. Or pass off any screw ups as related to the novelty of the situation.

"No," Prowl shook his head firmly, and then admitted "I haven't summoned anyone outside of training. And that was a low level demon we paid with praxian energon sweets and little crystal spells because all he had to do was show up and then he got to leave again as long as he didn't wreak havoc," he explained.

His first. Jazz was his first real summons. No wonder the enforcer had been so scared of him. The mech had no experience; he was working with Jazz and he had no experience. He immediately stood and drew away from Prowl, trying to think over the situation. It was his first real job-- and he had sold his spark. 

No wonder Prowl was trying to cling to him; he was scared and trying desperately to figure out how to manage the loss of himself. 

"You are every kind of idiot. I want to cancel the contact," he decided. They'd figure something else out; Monetary assets, service. Something. Just not... His life. It felt wrong to cut the mech's choices so soon. It felt wrong to do this at the start of the mech's career.

Prowl was startled when Jazz drew away and then stared at Jazz in disbelief. "I'm not letting you go just because you think I'm an idiot," he glared and jumped up as well so Jazz couldn't loom over him. "You're helping me get that egg back." He might even agree with the assessment of his own foolishness, but Prowl had been an enforcer long enough that he knew he needed a demon to help him with this. And now Jazz was trying to back out of their deal because he questioned Prowl's skill.

Jazz all but hissed as he flared his plating out at Prowl. He needed that contract back if they were to modify their terms, so he held a servo out and motioned with it, "I don't want your Spark Prowl. Give me the contract and we can fashion a new one. Do not be any more of a fool." They didn't have too much time before they were due to meet Soundwave, but Jazz wouldn't go through with this if Prowl wouldn't forfeit the contract first. He'd feel guilty doing so and he wasn't prepared to end their game so early.

Prowl couldn't help but shrink back at the display and put up his servos in a protective gesture. "So you only want to renegotiate?" he asked, unwilling to take out the contract before Jazz didn't promise he wouldn't simply destroy it and abandon him. He had no idea why Jazz had changed his mind, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what Jazz would want to demand instead. What did Prowl have to offer that would be equivalent to half a spark, half of which given alive. Just what did Jazz hope to gain? What new leverage did he think he now had.

It felt difficult to control himself, and Jazz couldn't pinpoint exactly why. It wasn't as if he hadn't taken and taken and taken from mechs before and it shouldn't bug him this much this time. Still, there was a driving force that prevented him from backing down, even when Prowl took a more defensive stance.

"Yes! Monetary assets! Fuel! Service! Not your spark! You don't- you shouldn't- you should have never taken the deal in the first place," he tried not to yell, but failed miserably. He wanted to hiss at him, or lash out; the mech was a newbie with no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Very well," Prowl snapped back. "What do you want instead?" He glared, crossing his arms. He didn't take out the contract yet. He didn't doubt for a second that Jazz would rip the contract to shreds in his current state. "You don't actually like the fuel I provide, and I don't have extensive monetary assets. So what kind of service do you plan on demanding?" His spark was racing in his chest, thinking of the kind of depraved berthroom services Jazz might want to demand. He had seemed more than interested earlier.

Jazz ran a servo down his face plates. Prowl had a point in that sense; Prowl didn't have anything he could give Jazz in return accept labour; that or sexual favours. But the mech was a flinchy ball of oversensitive metal. He wouldn't put up with any requests Jazz gave him anyways, not when the best way to get his payment would be to sell Prowl off as a novelty. Praxians we're so rare in the demon world after all. Prowl's first born? The mech didn't look like one to get around anyways. And what the frag was Jazz gonna do with a kid?

And that was only if Prowl would even let him at the contract to begin with. Which seemed impossible with how defensive the Praxian had gotten. There was one thing. Intimate. But something giveable nonetheless. Jazz took a vent and laid his service on Prowl's chest, "Oh but you do have fuel I like. And it's even more valuable from here. Your innermost Energon Prowl."

Prowl's optics widened at the touch and demand. But then, he had been willing to grant Jazz his spark, to bare himself and let himself be devoured. His innermost energon was a paltry comparison. 

"Half of it," he countered, unwilling to give all of it at once. He, selfishly, hoped to retain some of it. Possibly if he had to summon Jazz again in the future.

Jazz hissed again, "Three quarters. Or I rummage around in your subspace for the contract and rip it apart." 

He had an image to uphold. And he wasn't about to let that facade drop even if he quite liked Prowl. He wouldn't ruin the mech's life this way at least. And Prowl could do a heck of a lot with a quarter of his innermost Energon as long as he only stuck to giving it to those he really truly cared for. It would suffice for now. He'd have to make due.

"Two thirds," Prowl countered. "And if you dare rummage in my subspace I will fashion you a collar after all," he added, unwilling to let a threat like that go unanswered.

"I can and will cancel with Soundwave," Jazz warned, "And you won't get your hands on another demon who's got the connections I have." Collared he would be forced to comply. But he needed to keep face for other contractors. He couldn't just give in so easily.

The reminder of their short timeframe had Prowl grit his denta. "Very well. Three quarters it is." He stalked over to the desk and spread the contract out meticulously, but with sharp motions. "Is this included as an addendum? Or will we need to rewrite the contract itself?" He growled.

"addendum. I don't want to Fragging rewrite one every time you decide to drop some other useful information," Jazz stayed across the room and away from Prowl. There was no way he was going to play nice with a mech threatening to collar him, "Hurry up. Soundwave doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Very well," Prowl snapped back and wrote the addendum in sharp jerks of his wrist, the glyphs coming out perfectly, almost frighteningly precise. "Come here and look it over before we sign," he urged.

Jazz immediately came over and looked over the write up. He opened his wrist again with a small blade, not quite caring for the mess this time before signing quickly. He didn't move away though, instead opting to keep close, and pressing his stylus into the joint of one of Prowl's doorwings. "Threaten to collar me again while I'm trying to help you and I'll rip this off," he growled lowly, before pulling back and allowing Prowl his space.entangled wood02/17/2019

Prowl hissed at the pressure and flicked his doorwings in irritation. "Don't try to use force as a threat and I won't," he snapped back and ripped off the bandage non too gently from his wrist, and used his claw to sign his glyph once again. A moment's hesitation and he thrust his still bleeding wrist towards Jazz. A piece offering, if a grudging one.

Jazz examined the wrist as if the enforcer was trying to bribe him. He knew prowl was only doing it because they were still working together, and Prowl needed results sooner rather than later. He was a pawn. Something to be bribed if needed and punished if Prowl was frustrated. 

He pulled a bandage from his subspace and shoved it at Prowl, "I'll have what I want when we get to the bar. Let's go."

Prowl held back a long-suffering sigh and took the bandage to wrap his wrist. " thank you. And yes, let's. Lead the way." He said flatly and subspaced the contract again. His frame held tight, though he knew he'd have to force himself to relax by the time they reached the club. But maybe he could play off lingering tension as nervousness.

Jazz examined Prowl for a moment, looking over his paint job and sighing. It would have to do. They were expected in a few clicks and Soundwave was one for rigid schedules. Jazz rolled his shoulders, easily putting on a more relaxed face before grabbing his stylus and moving towards a blank wall. He drew a rectangle large enough for them to both walk through and labelled it 'door' right in the middle. For a moment the glyph glowed, and suddenly the rectangle changed into what seemed like an older style but simply metal door. Jazz motioned towards it, "We'll still have a ways to walk. But this is the easiest way."

Prowl was fascinated to watch Jazz cast, and in the last second remembered to dash into the wash rack and grab his touchup paint. "I'll paint as we walk," he agreed, already dipping the brush into white paint to start covering glyphs. A simple spell would take care of the drying once they were in sight of the door.

Jazz stepped through, placing them on the side of a busy street. With both of them through, he shut the door and it instantly vanished, leaving them both among the crowd of demons. Immediately he grabbed for a piece of Prowl's bumper he could hold on to as the walked side by side, parting mech as they continued, "Welcome to Tarn. It ain't the capital but it holds special relevance to demons. So. Tell me what rumors spread about Soundwave on sorcerer gossip sites."

Prowl looked around with wide optics, immediately stepping closer to Jazz's side at the number of demons around. He had never been outside of Praxus, and Tarn was a very very different place. "Soundwave," Prowl began in a hushed voice, "is a very powerful demon. One of those, like Megatron, where no one is actually sure they exist. He isn't violent unless provoked, loyal to Megatron, immensely powerful. A telepath, who can discern your secrets just by making optical contact."

Jazz scoffed, "Wow. Alright, so you're missing a few important details there. Firstly, he's got pets. Don't call them that, but that's kinda what they are. Or spies. Either I guess." Jazz turned down a less busy street, continuing to pull Prowl along as he painted. "Secondly. Hes got a vocal glitch. Don't bring it up. The telepathy thing is true, but only if you're thinking the thought at the moment, or it's right at the forefront of your mind." He tried to explain.

Prowl frowned down at the dripping paintbrush in his servo. "So I should just stop painting because if he doesn't read it from my processor his spies will tell him?"

Jazz shook his head, "the cover-up isn't for him Prowler. It's for anyone else who may be in the bar." He actually stopped then, turning to Prowl and mentally scolding himself for being concerned over the mech's feelings, "he's a friend. And we're helping Megatron in a way. He's not gonna come after you or anything just because you're an enforcer. Besides. We aren't much of a threat to him anyways."

Prowl nodded, unsure what he'd said or done to turn Jazz from his angry disposition to try and reassure him, but he wasn't going to complain. "Okay. I'll need a little more time, but I think I have the primary rank glyphs covered up now."

Jazz nodded, content, for now, to continue dragging the mech along and down another road. "We're almost there. I'm gonna need you to behave," it wasn't said like an innuendo this time but he still meant it, "he's a little scary I'll admit. But that's cuz I've seen him work."

"Don't worry. I know how to behave around high ranked individuals," Prowl promised and rushed through the last few glyphs. He stored the paint and pulled out a shard of blue crystal which he crushed between his fingers. A rush of magic flowed over him and left his paint dry and even.


	2. A meeting with Soundwave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz brings Prowl to meet soundwave. Some inappropriate touching and misuse of magic may be involved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinks;   
> Telepathic overloads  
> public fingering  
> praise kink  
> dom/sub

Jazz finally turned, passing down a small alley before coming to a set of very ornate doors. He opened them, and moved his hand to just underneath Prowl's doorwings. The room inside was elegant with hanging crystals and several booths. He pushed Prowl forward as he guided him towards the back and the more private booths. They were just on time, and helped Prowl up and into the cushioned seat as he waved to Soundwave.

Prowl made sure to lock his vocalizer and drop his gaze demurely. He only glanced around enough to maneuver, leaning close into Jazz, for security and to give off an air of insecurity. He knew his role, and wasn't above laying it on thick. He climbed up into the seat and only glanced at Soundwave once before dropping his gaze and turning his attention back to Jazz, shifting enough to make room for Jazz and then move in to curl against his side, unless Jazz stopped him and directed him somewhere else.

Jazz filed in beside Prowl and let him curl in, it was more than they had touched on the berth but they were acting now. This wouldn't be common; he reminded himself even if he liked it. He directed his attention to Soundwave, "You look as stoic as ever. How's it going?"

Soundwave didn't respond for a moment, looking between them and analyzing the situation, "Jazz; has brought an enforcer. New client?"

Prowl was glad that Jazz allowed him close, and let his frame relax a bit. It wouldn't do to appear too nervous. He fixed his optics on the table between them and Soundwave, using the glossy surface to get another look at the demon's faceplate. He also tried to figure out if there were any of the pets around, doorwings splaying behind him and Jazz to get more input. He'd leave the talking to Jazz unless addressed directly.

"More like a mission with a mutual benefit," Jazz offered, "He's looking for something I think you may know where it is."

Still Soundwave's optics roamed Prowl, "You're looking for someone. Something. This is a dangerous place you're in, sorcerer."

Jazz motioned to the server, and ordered a round of high grade. Soundwave immediately responded, cancelling the one for himself. "You're no fun anymore."

Prowl listened attentively and nodded in acknowledgement, though he glanced at Jazz first, unsure if he had leave to speak or if he needed to stay in his role as Jazz's possession. Jazz had spoken of a mutually beneficial arrangement, but did that mean he was admitting to the contract and their, current, equal status? Or just that he was indulging his newest conquest with something he felt would benefit him as well?

Jazz nudged Prowl, nodding towards Soundwave to encouragement to speak. It wouldn't do well to have the one with the mission silent, so he encouraged him. "Stay hushed," he meant it more as a suggestion than an order. 

Soundwave shrugged, "Megatron; is in need of someone to stay vigilant at all times."

"An item was stolen from the Praxian central museum," he explained, raising his optics to meet Soundwave's visor. He thought explicitly of the egg, hoping Soundwave would pick up on it, and recognize what it was. "The culprits were a trine of Seeker whose description matches Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp, sir." He added, keeping his voice quiet as suggested.

Soundwave just looked at Prowl for a moment, locking optics with him. The drinks arrived, and Jazz shuffled a glass of high grade towards Prowl. "Starscream: has been well behaved lately; cause of worry," Soundwave finally said, "both; feel as if this egg may be used in a scheme of some sort?"

Jazz nodded and took a sip of his own drink before answering, "You and I both know he's going after Megatron's throne. That's what it always is."

Soundwave nodded, "Jazz: has some interest in this Praxian then?"

Jazz only responded with a shrug, not really wanting to get into his mixed feelings at the moment.

Prowl nodded as well. "It is a form of containment magic. I am unsure of its contents though, sir," he admitted. He took the drink when Jazz pushed it towards him. And at Soundwave's question he dropped his gaze and hid his faceplate behind the cube, taking a curious sip.

Jazz wanted to smack Soundwave. He wouldn't of course, but he desperately wanted to. He didn't need Soundwave messing with his personal life, even if it was just about a stupid contract anyways. 

Soundwave hummed low as if thinking something for a moment. He leaned forward slightly, "You're upset. About your terms of employment. Should I be concerned?"

Jazz sputtered, taken back for a moment, "No! Soundwave! We're here to talk about an egg! I'm here because I want to be!"

Prowl frowned behind the cube and decided to better tuck his doorwings down submissively. Arousing Soundwave's curiosity could only lead to problems. He stayed cuddled close to Jazz's side though, optics once more downcast, trying to give off an air of submission to the other demon. He also made sure the wrist with the armband and Jazz's glyphs ws prominently displayed so Soundwave would hopefully accept it and stop prying.

Soundwave sat up indignantly as if caught in a scandalized position. It was an interest neither of them wanted to discuss it seemed, though Soundwave had other ways of finding things out. "Starscream;" he said, "He'll be hiding this egg until the right moment. Starscream; still a fool." Soundwave reached into his subspace and produced a small card and handed it to Jazz.

"An invitation?" Jazz observed. It was gaudy, though that was likely by Starscream's design. And it mentioned a gala at Starscream's Manor in Vos'. "Oh," Jazz said, "Frag. He's always such a showman."

Prowl looked up curiously and frowned down at the invitation. If Soundwave had received one, then likely Megatron had as well. The one Starscream wanted to use the egg on. Whatever was in it. "Does Starscream even know how to open it?" he asked curiously, though he made sure to keep his voice quiet. The egg was an especially tricky bit of praxian magic, that wasn't supposed to be activated by just anyone. Then again, Starscream wouldn't invite everyone to a gala if he didn't. Or would he?

Soundwave shrugged, offering little more than that as a response. Instead, he looked passively between the two, contemplating something Jazz couldn't quite pick up on. 

"I'm going to take that as an indeterminate at the moment," Jazz said. Glancing around the bar, he could see a few optics on them. It wasn't surprising, with both Soundwave and Prowl at the table but it still made Jazz insecure. He opted to wrap an arm around Prowl's waist, and glare his visor around the room. 

"Jazz; protective," Soundwave Mumbled. 

"Stay on topic," Jazz responded, "This party thing. How do we get in?"

Soundwave let out a melodic tone as if humming. "Starscream; may be in need of entertainment."

Prowl barely froze when Jazz pulled him close, and then relaxed further into the embrace. He nodded in agreement, but couldn't help but bristle at the mention of entertainment. Soundwave spoke with a monotone, but Prowl knew what the phrase meant. He'd busted enough sleazy parties - and honestly been at enough official functions - to know what kinds of entertainment might be asked for. And he hoped dearly that Jazz remembered what Prowl had agreed to in terms of interfacing. Though, maybe if they weren't trying to hide his magic, a pet sorcerer might be entertaining enough...

Jazz jumped at the opportunity, "we'll do it. If it's an in, I'll take it." He rubbed Prowl's hip, knowing the Praxian would understand the turn of phrase and wanted to reassure him somewhat. He may have to bend the 'no interfacing' rule a bit, to more of a 'let them look but not touch' arrangement but Prowl desperate enough he may accept it. He was exotic enough that Jazz could make the excuse that he didn't want his new fancy toy getting scratched. 

"Soundwave; will tell Starscream a magician will be coming," He nodded to Prowl.

Prowl kept a tight grip on the cube, and enjoyed Jazz's comforting touch. He'd agreed to interfacing with Jazz, and had even agreed to an audience. He just hoped they'd be able to keep it to that. He relaxed some more when Soundwave mentioned him entertaining as a magician. "I can do some parlor tricks," he murmured in agreement.

Jazz perked up, "You can? Like... I assumed you could have, with the whole magic thing." He took another sip of his drink, "Show us something." He could test out his other theory now. Tentatively he moved his servo around to Prowl's hip joint and rubbed there, just testing to see how the mech would react.

"Yes, sir," Prowl agreed, trying to remember some of the early spells he'd started his training out with. Jazz's touch was distracting, but Prowl didn't pull away. Instead he bit his lip and pulled a light blue crystal and a carving tool from his bag. It was easy enough to carve the glyphset into the facets, though his servo would soon grow shaky if Jazz moved his touch closer to his panel. His fiel was starting to pulse with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment as he set the crystal onto the table between them, carefully balanced on a point. 

"licht und schatten," he said and set the crystal to spin like a top, a kaleidoscope of colors spilling out from it to paint geometric patterns on the table and the roof above them.

Jazz chuckled, and watched the colours pool over the table. It was cute, and may have distracted a few mechs for the novelty of it but Prowl himself may end up being the main entertainment. Slowly, he drew his hand downwards Prowl's panel, and rubbed lightly. He didn't want to spook him and so went slow, just testing. "Cute. Anything else?"

Across the table Soundwave shuddered, entranced by the game unfolding.

Prowl kept biting his lips and let his legs fall open, trying vainly to keep from squirming too obviously. He could feel Soundwave's optics on him, likely fully aware of what was going on. He dug through his subspace and pulled out a set of multicolored crystal disks. His servo shook as he etched them, and with a push of wordless magic sent them hovering over the table's surface and then rising into the air in a spiral. A wobbly spiral. He flushed with embarrassment and tried to focus more on the disks he was trying to lead in an intricate dance.

"I don't want to show anything that would exhaust my supplies, sir, but for passive effects I can also create smoke, as well as sound illusions," he explained, voicebox faint and doorwings faintly quivering behind his back.

"Prowl; Sensitive," Soundwave observed, leaning across the table, his interest was taken by the Praxian, enjoying the residual pleasure rolling off Prowl's frame. 

Jazz smiled,"Straighten your spiral Prowler. Don't be sloppy." He reprimanded the mech by smacking his panel with a slight amount of force before returning to rubbing slightly. He mouthed over Prowl's audial, "we can probably get him off like this. Just by feeling you."

"Yes, sir," Prowl gasped, the loudest he'd spoken yet, followed by a whine when Jazz rubbed the bit of pain away. The soft words had him flushing, which didn't actually help him gain control of the slowly turning disks. His thighs trembled subtly and he spread them a little more, well aware of what was expected of him here, even while his optics were fixed on the disks, trying his best to keep them all in position. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to open his panel, but he figured Jazz would order it if he wanted it.

It was the closest thing to consent he was going to get. He'd have to make it up to the Praxian later if he was truly upset. He dug his digits into Prowl's valve cover and he grumbled, "Open. Play nice." He glanced over to Soundwave and nodded at the mech, giving a small permission. 

Soundwave was tense as he leaned over and reached for one of Prowl's servos, he held lightly, allowing Prowl to pull away if he wanted.

Prowl flushed and shuddered all over at the first touch of Soundwave's servo. He didn't pull away though, just let his servo rest flat on the table for the demon to touch. He opened his valve panel, which slid back with a slick sound. The teasing touch, the audience, and frankly the thrill of danger was enough to get his frame to react, lubricant gathering in his valve. His optics stayed fixed on the disks, which were still turning, though they were slowing down as Prowl had to split his attention more and more.

Jazz hummed against Prowl in a sort of pleased tone, letting his hand simply press against Prowl's array. It was warm, and already slick; a good sign. Slowly he pressed the ball of his hand up and down Prowl's array, not yet giving any specific attention. He purred, letting his engine rumble through Prowl's frame. 

"Good mech. Good little enforcer. You're doing well. Don't let your spell drop now, it won't be very entertaining of you now would it?"

Not sensing any distress from the mech, Soundwave gripped Prowl's service harder. It was all he would touch; Jazz had made that clear. But it was enough to really let Soundwave feel him, and his pleasure. He shuddered again, and crossed his own legs and tried to hold himself still.

Prowl whined, valve slicking more quickly now that he was trapped in place between Soundwave's firm hold, Jazz's insistent servo, and the need to keep his optics on the disks to keep them afloat. 

"sir," he whined. Jazz's words were having a most peculiar effect on his processor, making his focus narrow down, making him feel small in ways he wasn't used to but found strangely compelling here, like this. His free servo curled into a fist atop the table so he could try and ground himself and maybe prolong the time before he failed maintaining the spell.

Jazz finally brought his fingers up, letting them slide up and down Prowl's opening before pushing one in. He swirled it for a moment, looking for anything sensitive to play with and he brought his other servo up to finish his drink. 

"Good," He murmured, "What a cute little form of magic you have there. Can you hold it up while you overload? Or do they not teach you that at the academy?"

Prowl didn't try to hold back his gasp. He was fairly sure the order to hush had only applied to speaking. Their audience would surely appreciate hearing as well as seeing him falling apart. His valve clenched around Jazz's finger and he tried to rock down against it. 

"Sir please," he gasped, flushing at the question. He had no idea if he could keep the disk moving. The glyphs he'd inscribed would keep them floating pretty much as long as the overload didn't knock him into a reset. But they'd be frozen in place. Maybe if Jazz set up a rhythm Prowl could match the motion of the disks to it?

Soundwave piped up, "Prowl; requests a structure to movements. Goal; easier to manipulate objects." Soundwave's servo clenched around Prowl's as he took in more input from the Praxian.

Jazz chuckled, "Having a hard time there?" Despite the tease he set a slow rhythm to his pumping. When he felt Prowl was ready, he pressed his thumb into Prowl's node, not yet rubbing it. Half of the fun was getting the mech worked over slowly, to the point he was begging. Though, Prowl still had some tricks up his sleeve after all.

Prowl squirmed at Soundwave's remark, faintly embarrassed at the reminder of the demon's telepathic abilities. He didn't dare squeeze back, leaving his servo for Soundwave to manipulate as he pleased. Just as Jazz was manipulating his valve, fragging him in a slow rhythm that was now followed by the spiral, disks dancing in tune to Jazz's touch. 

"Yes, sir," Prowl admitted. A shiver ran through him at the first touch to his node. His frame was so touch starved that his charge was rising quickly already, biolights and optics brightening while his wings faintly quivered behind him. He was glad that he was already leaning into Jazz's side so he wouldn't have to try and keep himself upright as well. He could simply slump against Jazz and keep his optics fixed on the spiral in front of him.

The mech in the booth over looked over his chair, the bartender eyed them carefully and several other mechs had caught on to what was happening. They had drawn quite a crowd, and so Jazz leaned back, exposing a little more of Prowl into view. If they wanted a show, he was happy to oblige. He added a finger and picked up the pace of his motions, happy to let Prowl figure out how to deal with it. 

"Wow. You've drawn quite the attention to yourself. Must be how your doorwings give away what you're feeling. They're kinda cute all twitchy like that-" Prowl took his free hand and drew it across the closest wing "- yeah. Like that. A mech could get used to playing with these."

Prowl whined and squirmed in Jazz's hold. He couldn't look away without losing his focus on the disks, but his processor and the sensory impressions from his doorwings gave him an idea of the kind of crowd he'd drawn. He gasped when Jazz added another finger, calipers cycling down tight around him. His doorwings quivered and when Jazz stroked it the entire spiral wobbled. "

Sir," he gasped, valve clenching tight and biolights glowing brightly at the intense sensation. With how high he had tuned the sensitivity the caress bordered on painful, but that didn't stop Prowl's frame from sending a spike of charge through his sensornet. He ground down against Jazz's fingers, optics bright and fixed on the disks, which started to pick up speed, more than likely echoing the way his spark was racing now.

Soundwave overloaded first. So unused to the sensations of such sensitive components it forced him over. He arched back into his seat, letting go of Prowl in the process and sighing in completion. He was silent and still as he continued to ride out the feeling, the only indication being a brightened visor. 

Jazz brought his mouth back to Prowl's audials and whispered, "This can be over now. If you want. They will accept Soundwave getting off as the goal." It was hard to tell if Prowl was actually enjoying this, or playing along. Though how wet he was couldn't be ignored. He didn't want to push though, nor leave Prowl needing. He slowed his pace, bust didn't let Prowl fall from where he was. He wanted the mech to relax into this. He couldn't have him associating this as a bad experience.

When Soundwave let go and Jazz leaned close Prowl couldn't help but bring his servos up and back to cling to Jazz's shoulder. "I...please..." he gasped, whining at the slowed pace. "So close," he whined softly. He was fairly sure he'd be embarrassed in the aftermath either way, so he wanted the overload, wanted to feel pleasure by another's servo for once. And Jazz's fingers felt so good inside him, on him. Though he'd accept denial if Jazz thought it fit more with their plan and the image they wanted to present to their audience.

Soundwave pitched in, "Prowl; has been very good." Jazz agreed. Prowl had been so good for him; playing along and acting perfectly. He picked up his pace, rubbing circled into Prowl's node now, trying to encourage the mech over the best he could. "You've been so so good. You'll be the perfect thing for me to show off." He dragged a digit along the edges of Prowl's doorwings, watching them react to his touch.

Prowl trembled and gasped, doorwings arching into the gentle touch and valve grinding down into the firm pressure. Soon enough his entire frame was trembling and he overloaded with a drawn out moan, disks trembling where they stood in the air before dropping a few inches as his focus gave out after all. At least none of them clattered to the tabletop. The glyphs were good for that much.

Jazz immediately pulled his fingers out, and held them up over the table on a casual display. Several of the mech's chuckled at the display but the main show was over, and they mostly returned to their respective attentions. He wiped the mess on Prowl's outer thigh and moved his hand to rub the small of the enforcers back, attempting to reassure him somewhat. 

"You stopped," Jazz teased, "Well. At least you were entertaining while it lasted. We shouldn't overstay our welcome now Prowler." Jazz nodded to Soundwave, trying to push the idea this was Prowl's first time doing something like this, and their first time intimately and Jazz suspected he may want to be alone to recover.

Prowl flushed in embarrassment at the chuckle, turning to hide his helm in Jazz's neck as best he could without taking his attention off the disks, which were slowly, sluggishly, starting to move again. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured and leaned into the comforting touch. At the implied order to leave Prowl gratefully let the disks flow back into his servo so he could return them to his subspace. After the overload he felt relaxed, comfortable with Jazz, and it took him a moment to realize he really should close his panel if he planned to get up soon.

He just held Prowl close for a moment. The mech needed a wash, and they had a day before Starscream's event. It would do them both good the calm down after all of this anyway. 

"Close your panels," Jazz ordered. He pulled away, holding Prowl's hand and pulling him from the booth. "Pardon us," He nodded to Soundwave, "Send me the info yeah?" 

Soundwave nodded, waving them both off.

It took a moment of fumbling for Prowl to trigger the transformation sequence without pinching the still swollen mesh. It was mildly uncomfortable, but better than walking around with his still slick valve on display as Jazz pulled him from the berth. He made sure to keep his optics demurely downcast, bowing to Soundwave and staying stuck to Jazz's size. He could feel eager optics on them, interested field lapping against him. From the side of his optics he even spotted a mech, a large warframe, moving to intercept them.

It was reflex to grab for his stylus as he assessed the mech approaching. He knew mechs could get grabby and didn't exactly want to pull Prowl from his satiated mindset before they could talk things out. He held Prowl close to his side, and flared his plating in a silent warning to the approaching mech. He had hoped to make it out before the Warframe came up to them but it seemed luck wasn't on his side today. Jazz looked up to the mech, "Can I do something for ya?"

The warframe stopped in front of them and smirked down at Jazz, barely sparing more than a leer for Prowl. "My friends and I saw you entertain the high muckitymuck just now," he jerked his helm towards Soundwave's booth. "How about you come spend some time with us before you leave? We'd make it worth your while," he grinned and pointed toward the direction he'd come from, where two other warframes were occupying a booth.

Prowl would bet they were all rather drunk already, but he was fairly sure his job right now was the backup. The surprise attack, if one was necessary. Still, he carefully shifted his free servo to rest atop one of his subspace pockets in case he needed to defend himself.

Jazz regarded the two mechs over in the booth with little consideration. Great. Just what he needed; drunk mechs getting handsy. But he didn't exactly want to get into a fight if he could help it. He put on a charming smirk and looked over the mech as if check-in him out. 

"Oh yeah? And what exactly do you think is worth my while? And overload and a drink? That's a little cheap for a newly acquired Praxian don't you think?" He squeezed Prowl's servo in reassurance. If he could convince the mech they were too expensive to be worth their time, hopefully they could leave without a commotion. Jazz rather liked this bar.

The mech frowned, but then shrugged, undeterred. "If you want to talk shanix, why don't you join us for a drink? We're celebrating my friend's promotion. I'm sure we'll come to an understanding." He stepped closer, looming now.

Prowl grit his denta and carefully relaxed his hold on Jazz so they'd both be able to move freely. Did he pack a binding spell? He wasn't sure. But there was at least one EM pulse in his subspace pre-prepared. Maybe he could use it? But how, without arousing suspicions. Especially since he'd clearly shown off his abilities earlier.

Jazz chuckled, assessing the looming mech. The longer they stayed here the more the mech was going to push for this. "There are rules," Jazz stepped forward, determined not to be intimidated in any capacity. 

"Rules I don't think you or your friend you abide by given your current states. Hit me up when you're sober yeah? The little Praxian here is strictly look and Don't touch. We got a big show tomorrow and he needs time to come down from entertaining."

The mech snorted at the assertion and matched Jazz by stepping forward as well. "Oh really?" the mech laughed, "let's see what happens." and reached over Jazz to grab Prowl's arm, only to drop like a sack of spare parts a second later

Prowl watched closely, calculating. When Jazz stepped forward he stayed where he was, frame tense, but held in a way that would read as submissive to everyone else. He slipped the EM pulse from his subspace and, when the mech grabbed him, crushed the crystal assembly in his servo to send the charge racing up his arm and into his frame. It worked perfectly, and Prowl had to fight to hide the smugness from his field. Instead he quickly moved away and back to Jazz's side. 

"I didn't think your protection would be this effective, sir," he whispered, loud enough to be heard, and with enough awe in his voice that hopefully people would ascribe it to Jazz's magic instead of his own talent. Hopefully Jazz was quick on the pick up as well.

So much for getting Prowl back to his apartment all relaxed. Or perhaps Prowl hadn't been relaxed at all, and was simply good at playing his part. The idea was upsetting; Jazz really did like the idea of Prowl enjoying what they had done, but if it was just work then he had no right to think or hope more from the mech. It was easy enough to step over the Warframe, having little regard as he walked over the mech and towards the door. 

"Don't touch," Jazz reaffirmed, "I like to break new toys myself, thank you very much." He tugged Prowl along, ready to start scolding him as they exited the door. He kept his grip tight, half out of the anxiety of someone actually getting a hand on the mech and half from the idea of Prowl getting found out for casting a spell like that. The two aspects were conflicting enough that he stayed silent for a minute after they left the bar.

Prowl let himself be tugged and made himself not comment on the breaking comment, unsure if Jazz meant it or was just playing. Instead he just made sure to stick close to Jazz's side and keep his field contained. He also didn't show any pain from the tightness of Jazz's grip, which was mildly uncomfortable. Once outside the bar he relaxed his posture somewhat, though he didn't try to move away, since he had no idea where they would be heading next.

"You should have let me handle it," Jazz hushed to him on the street. He would need to find a suitable wall to make himself a door, and so turned down an alleyway, stopping suddenly and facing Prowl. "You're alright right?he didn't get more in than a touch?" He was worrying too much. But he felt unable to stop until he got a real confirmation. He wanted to get Prowl back somewhere safe; namely Jazz's apartment. Maybe help him get washed up and ready. But he knew Prowl likely had something to say about the situation and decided they could at least start talking here. Mostly, just to placate Jazz's worry.

"I am perfectly alright,"Prowl assured him. Jazz seemed genuinely worried, so he held back the snappy retort and instead rested a gentle servo on Jazz's arm. "He only touched me once, and I am trained to react to threats like that. I could see him coming, so I was prepared to defend myself...should a slave" his faceplate wrinkled at the word," defend themselves from being touched if their master has clearly stated they shouldn't be touched?" He asked for clarification.

Technically no. Technically Prowl should have let what Happened , happen. But he was glad for the disobedience; having Prowl defend himself wasn't a bad thing. But should he prioritize their cover or Prowl's safety and dignity? He sighed, and dropped his grip on Prowl's wrist. "It's fine. Just keep it discrete. Please. The last thing I want is someone demanding I punish you. " He brought out his stylus and avoided Prowl's gaze. He should have acted quicker. And he should have dealt with the problem himself. He said, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Prowl nodded. "That's reasonable. Though..." he considered. "could you install a protection like that? The EM pulse I delivered was simple..." he mused and watched Jazz set up another doorway. It was fascinating and he couldn't wait to see where they ended up this time.

He wrote the glyph for home on the door, and watched it transform into something stylized but simple. He opened it, ushering Prowl through to the spacious apartment. "I can think up something," Jazz said as he entered. "The wash station is through the living room and to the left." He didn't dare offer to help. It was obvious Prowl had been acting earlier during their little game and Jazz didn't want to come off as forceful.

Prowl followed, still at awe at how Jazz's magic worked. He looked around wide opticed, taking in the spacious, obviously lived in apartment. It felt intimidating, and with Jazz keeping his distance Prowl was unsure what to do. Though the implied instructions were clear enough. "Thank you," he said softly and went where Jazz directed him. He wouldn't need more than a wet cloth to clean the streaks of lubricant from his plating, but he'd be happy to do it all the same. "You'll be in the living room afterwards?" He asked, unsure how large the apartment even was.

Jazz flopped himself down on the large couch in the living room and flicked on the entertainment system. He motioned to the wash racks and sunk down into the couch. "Yeah I'll be around. I have a separate berth room if you want to nap or something."

Prowl nodded. He wasn't sure what had crawled up Jazz's access port and died in the last few minutes, but he could sort that out once he'd wiped down. He entered the wash rack, impressed by how luxurious it was. But then, Jazz had to be old enough to have had time to accumulate this amount of resources. Still, he felt out of place as he wet a cloth to wipe his plating and check his paint. It looked well enough, even with the rush job. Though, if they were going to entertain, they should take time to touch up both of their paint.

He came out soon enough and took a seat next to Jazz on the couch. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Jazz sighed, "Sorry. Just focused and somewhat... Put off I guess." He sat up, regarding Prowl. He didn't want the enforcer to worry. The mech hadn't actually showered properly, though he assumed it wasn't really his place to be concerned or ask about anyways. But there was something else he wanted to bring up, "Were you alright? With what happened in there I mean. With Soundwave." If he wasn't, there was little he could do about it now. They'd have to find a different plan of entertainment; but Prowl did know a few fun tricks.

"Put off by what?" Prowl asked, unwilling to let this linger between them. "The situation with soundwave was," he wet his lips. "Surprisingly enjoyable, actually. Though, if we do something similar tomorrow, feel free to be as possessive as you please and only let select few touch me." He dropped his gaze. "I trust you. I know its foolish, but I believe you won't take advantage of me in this situation. Though we should make a more detailed plan for what we'll do tomorrow..."

"Enjoyable?" Jazz perked up, actually sitting up from his lounging position. "As in. You enjoyed what just happened?" Jazz leaned into Prowl. He attempted to get a read on the enforcer; enjoyable was a far cry from 'duty' and he wanted to make sure his partner wasn't confusing the two. "Soundwave was an exception I assure you. It will be a definite 'look don't touch' policy. And no recording. I promise."

"Well," Prowl flushed a bit, but didn't shy away from Jazz. "You do realize you are quite attractive, right? It was quite thrilling to have you touch me intimately, while also trying to hold onto the spellwork. Having Soundwave holding onto me was unusual, but nothing I couldn't handle. And I admit I would prefer an audience I trusted over one consisting of strangers. But there is a certain thrill in anonymity." He wasn't sure why he was rambling so much. Maybe he wanted to justify his enjoyment for himself. Or talk himself into it, gloss over the underlying discomfort he'd experienced because of their circumstances.

A warmth spread over Jazz. Prowl thought he was attractive? Even given being a demon? Sure he knew he was an attractive mech to some of his more... Sketchy clients. But to an enforcer? With moral superiority? The idea was exciting to say the least. He didn't reach for Prowl right away, "I enjoyed it as well. You were good at it. It was a good trial run for what it was." He didn't push. He didn't want to imply anything yet. But he would be lying if he didn't say he desperately looked forward to tomorrow night. He had big plans for what he might do to the mech. But he reminded himself to reign himself in; if Prowl trusted him, then he didn't want to ruin that.

Prowl was surprised by the warmth blooming in Jazz's field. Was the demon actually surprised by his own appeal? Or just by Prowl's enjoyment of the play? In either case Prowl decided to be a bit more proactive and he reached out to rest a servo on Jazz's knee. "I'm happy to hear you enjoyed it. Do you have a plan for tomorrow already? Or should I tell you a bit more about the kind of stuff I know? Though it might be easier for you to suggest things, than for me to try and imagine what demons might find enticing..."

"Your valve is likely the most enticing to them. Though your spike isn't out of the question," Jazz started. His plan? Oh the things he wanted to do to Prowl. If it was a show they wanted, then Jazz had absolutely no problem obliging. He eyed Prowl's hand on his knee and read it as an invitation of sorts. He slid a hand over the inside of Prowl's knee, "With the no touching policy, you'll need to fan your field out. They'll want to feel you that way. It would disappoint to not have you play the magician while I'm playing with you. They may request things; but it will be my decision to oblige them or not. If anything is completely out of the question, I want you to send a distress signal over the bracelet." Still Jazz let his mind run wild, "I may frag you. I may frag your intake. It's entirely possible we get more creative. Ever used other objects on your valve? Those little disks of yours? Your wings are exotic, we may want to restrain them somehow." He could imagine tying them both together behind Prowl's back as he made Prowl blow him. On the more extreme scale? The same save for the addition of weights on his wings and Chevron. A Sybian and a charge lock for the fun of it as well.

"Spreading out my field will be no problem," Prowl agreed, and was secretly proud of his leg for not jerking at the teasing touch. "I haven't interfaced in a while, so my valve is quite sensitive. I also don't have much experience sucking spikes, so you'll have to be careful not to choke me. I haven't used toys before, so I'd like to see them first. And I'm not sure what you'd imagine I'd do with the disks?" The idea of restraining his wings had him shudder and he quickly shook his helm. "If you restrain my wings I will lose a good portion of sensory input," he explained, well aware he was giving away a big weakness of his frametype. "If you want to make them more enticing, we could see about changing their paint or adding some jewelry." He sent Jazz a few pictures of the more tasteful erotic decorations of the doorwings. Most of them were simple lines of paint or crystal to guide the optics to a dancer' spark or down to their array, but there was also one with glyph work, nothing crude. Just suggestive. He was well aware of how Jazz's magic worked now, and he wondered if he'd go for it. He was playing right atop the smelter here, just offering to let Jazz write on him. All the mech would need was one glyph to knock him out and then he could do whatever he pleased, including destroy the contract and put his own brand of enslaving magic on Prowl. Yet, it seemed like the perfect way to keep his doors free to move while still keeping them part of the display. Because that's what he'd be tomorrow. Not the quiet stern bodyguard, but the jewel bedecked pet made to perform tricks no matter what else their owner might do to him.

Jazz continued to let a finger drag olong the inside of Prowl's leg. "Let's start from the top here. If you want to see some toys I can show you them. We won't use anything too scary. But, what I really meant was putting the disks in your valve. Thought it might be something a little more creative; to tease you with the things you're trying to show off with." Jazz looked over the images, particularly the ones showing off Jewelry and the Glyphs. He didn't even know where to go buy that sort of thing but it looked amazingly inviting. The Glyphs though... We're a little more complicated. "The jewelry... Yes. Please. You'd look gorgeous all decorated for prying optics. As for the Glyphs we would have to be very careful what I write on you. Things like 'beauty' are fine, they won't do much then protect your paint job. But anything like 'lust' could act like an aphrodisiac until it's removed; making you a lot more needy for me than you already are." Was that appealing to Jazz? Yes. Very. It would be a sight to see Prowl brought to a whimpering mess just by a glyph. But he wouldn't do that on a mission, let alone in a public show.

Prowl wanted to squirm at the touch, but he kept himself still and his optics fixed on Jazz. "As in, you'd take a disk and put it there? Or you'd be directing me to levitate it there?" He reset his vocalizer with a click, trying to visualize either. "I might have to change the etchings...and I can see what jewelry I can improvise with my materials. And you can pick safe glyphs." He agreed. He couldn't help wondering what it would feel like, to have something like 'lust' written on him. Or 'open'. His panel was sending queries to his hud, which he dismissed. Though it reminded him that Jazz hadn't actually gotten to overload at the club, though his field had shown his enjoyment. He braced himself for a rejection and asked "do you want to interface?"

Jazz leaned back and laughed awkwardly, "That's kinda sudden." The answer; an undoubtedly 'yes' could wait for a moment. He wanted to be serious about this but there was an excitement there that Jazz couldn't deny. He moved himself off the couch slowly, and brought himself between. Prowl's legs. Placing a servo on each of Prowl's thighs, he rubbed small circles into the mech's inner plating. "I am not here to chase me own pleasure; no matter how desperately I want to. If you're offering out of obligation, then I don't want to. If this is some sort of genuine interest, then let me take you to the berth room and we can get this sorted out." There. That at least made his intentions known, what Prowl did with that was up to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, comments always welcome


	3. The first Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks;  
> Heavy dom/sub   
> sex toys  
> face fucking  
> good bdsm practices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support!

Prowl's optics stayed fixed on Jazz, though a shudder went through him when both of Jazz's servos settled on his thighs. Jazz's plating looked deceptively simple, but Prowl had no doubt that if the demon wanted he could simply force his legs open. Prowl wasn't sure he wanted to try though. And Jazz didn't seem inclined to prove it either. Why force, if he could tease instead? And it was working. 

"It is genuine interest," he assured Jazz. "Usually I go for a date first. But there is hardly anything usual about our situation. And I admit I'd rather have our first interface here, like this, instead of tomorrow with an audience. Maybe," he couldn't help but squirm a bit "you could even give me a hands on demonstration of one of the toys you plan to use?"

Jazz stood, reaching for Prowl hand and taking it. He pulled Prowl up and ordered, "Come then." He lead Prowl down a hall and into a medium sized berth room. He motioned to the bed; the order implicit as he shut the door behind them. 

"Always so clinical. Always do direct. Well let's see if we can turn that to begging now Shall we?" Jazz asked. He had a few ideas where to start, but it would do well to have the Praxian genuinely needy for him.

Prowl let himself be lead into the berthroom, looking around with eager optics to take in as many details as he could. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of begging, but he figured he should warm up to the idea quickly, considering what was coming tomorrow. He stepped towards the berth and sat on the edge, legs slightly parted and servos slightly behind him to hold himself up. 

"Where would you like to start?" he asked, watching closely what Jazz would do next.

"I have some ideas," Jazz provided without really giving any indication of what he was planning. He moved himself back between Prowl's legs, this time standing in front of him. He took a moment, just to lean over the mech and fiddle with the top edge of his doorwings. 

"Maybe I should write on you after all. I think it would be fun to see you so riled up you get yourself off just by humping a pillow." He thought out loud; no longer content to keep his fantasy's private. He wanted the Praxian and now he had him. Happy with his toying, Jazz moved back and towards his closet, disappearing into it for a moment before coming out with a box; held carefully in his arms.

Prowl looked up at Jazz and allowed himself to enjoy the touch. It was exhilarating, not being quite sure what Jazz was planning. Scary as well, yes, but also thrilling. "As long as it would be fun for me as well," he offered. "Though maybe we should save that for another night," he added. His doorwings shifted under Jazz's touch as Prowl rolled his shoulders. He licked his lips as the demon walked away and didn't try to keep his vents from cycling into higher gear. Based on their little scene in the club they'd be running in high gear quickly. He couldn't wait to see what was in the box.

Prowl sat the box beside Prowl, and then turned away from it. "This is a special toy Prowl. I don't want you thinking I just pull these things out for anyone." He didn't move for the box yet though, instead, pushing Prowl down to lay on the berth. Jazz crawled on top of him, aligning their arrays and sitting himself down; closed panel to close panel.

Prowl looked at the box curiously, but he didn't fight when Jazz pushed him back. "What does it do?" he asked and then gasped when Jazz sat on his array. His own was heating up again, never mind his recent overload. Just having the demon's lovely dangerous frame on top of him with enough to get his frame interested again. To say nothing of the thrill that came from having his processor fully involved in trying to guess what was in the box, or what Jazz was going to do with him next. And Prowl was going to let Jazz do to him next.

"Well," Jazz hummed, leaning forward to slowly rub their panels together, "the place I got it from sells training toys. So I suppose it's up to you if we're using the good setting or the bad setting." Jazz finally opened the small wooden box, revealing what looked to be a black stick. One one end; two small electrical prongs jutted out from the end, on the other, a rubber nub. 

"You said you wanted to see what toys I could use on you," Jazz smirked, "I guess that depends if you're a carrot or a switch kinda mech." He flicked on the vibrating end and pushed it between their panels. He moaned, long and hard before grinding down a little harder between them. pleasure bloomed in his field as he continued the motion.

"What kind of training are we talking about?" Prowl asked. He could imagine it, but he kind of wanted to hear Jazz say it. It also gave him time to decide if he wanted to be honest, or if he wanted to pick the more pleasant one. He groaned at the feeling of vibration and took hold of Jazz's hips so he could roll his hips up hard against him. His doorwings were rubbing pleasantly against the sheets and he his optics brightened a bit in pleasure.

"The kind where I make you into a pleasing little frag toy fit for a demon of my standing," Jazz smirked. "Weather that's through nicer means-" Jaz rolled his hips a little harder, "or something a little more demanding." Jazz removed the stick and turned it around. Swiftly he placed the metal prongs on Jazz's chevron and hit the button. This time the stick sent a jolt of electricity across Prowl's plating. It wouldn't be extremely painful but would be a good reminder should Prowl misbehave. 

"Is that appealing to you sorcerer? being a good plaything in this realm?"

"And what is your standing?" Prowl asked, easily matching the roll of Jazz's hips, though it was starting to grow harder and harder to keep his panel closed. The shock to his chevron had Prowl jerk his helm back, a shout of pain ripping from his throat. Frag, that hurt. Which didn't actually help him in deciding how to answer the earlier question. He looked up at Jazz with wide optics, unsure how to even answer that. It felt like a dangerous question. Was it appealing? Maybe as a fantasy. But Prowl knew very well that there was a difference between self-servicing to an idea, and actually living it.

"I may not be as impressive as Soundwave, but I am well enough to have the servitude of something like you," he returned the vibrator between them, pulling away the metal prongs. 

He watched Prowl's optics closely, picking up on the surprise and concern. "A game. When that door opens-" he tilted to the berthroom door, "none of this stands. You leave here with your dignity and freedom."

something. Prowl bit the inside of his lip. 

The vibration felt good, the idea of a game was enticing. And tomorrow it wouldn't be a game. Better to make good associations now, and see where this could take him. "A game," he agreed, servos stroking Jazz's hips. "Where I am your new playmate and you teach me what to do," he clarified, giving Jazz a chance to disagree and define their game differently.

Jazz paused; thinking over the idea for a moment. "Not to break character here but are you alright With this? In the restaurant I couldn't ask. But I feel like here I should. Despite our current mission... Look. I don't want to... I'm not gonna own you when this is all over. This is a game where I get to pretend to be some evil demon with a little Praxian playmate and we both get off. But it's a game. If you'd rather just frag, we can just frag."

Prowl pulsed comfort into his field. "I think the idea is exciting, letting you be in charge. I don't know enough about these kinds of games to have more than a broad idea of what this game would entail. I also know that tomorrow night I'll have to do more than play, so I'd rather have an idea of what I'll be getting myself into. It wouldn't do for me to freak out about something in front of an audience. So we should test it out, right? We can 'just frag' once the egg is back in Praxus and the contract is filled. I'd like that."

Jazz relaxed. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that for himself and not just for Prowl. The last sentiment; the idea they may see each other after delivering the egg excited Jazz. Perhaps a little too much. 

"We can practice for tomorrow," Jazz ground his hips down, "The training stick will help. You did well today with Soundwave but you lack focus." With hesitation, he pulled off prowl and stood. "Kneel."

Prowl nodded. "Please be careful with my doorwings," he reminded. He was sad to see Jazz go, but he didn't try to hold him in place. Instead he did his best go mentally classify this as training. He bit his lip at the order, not because he didn't want to do it, but rather because he didn't know where. Nervously he slid of the berth to kneel in front of Jazz, optics on the training stick.

"Good," Jazz purred, "you're an enforcer, and that programming has done well for you. But still, you need to be able to handle your pleasure and your work." Jazz made a point to use the pronged end of the stick to nudge prowl. He didn't activate it, but the threat was there.

"Go to the middle of the room. Chevron on the floor, on your knees, aft up." Part of this was just enjoying being able to command Prowl around; something he'd have to do a lot of coming up.

Prowl stayed quiet and attentive. This was training. Just not for one of the enforcer skills. So he held still and let himself be nudged. He could trust Jazz to reward and punish fairly, he reminded himself. 

"Yes, sir," he said. Again it wasn't quite clear if he should 'walk' or 'crawl', but he was sure Jazz would correct him. He dropped to servos and knees and crawled to what his doorwings informed him was the precise center of the room, and lowered his helm to the ground, servos splayed on the ground next to his helm.

Jazz stalked over to him, extremely happy with how Prowl took the submission route to his orders. He did a circle of Prowl, nudging Prowl with the prod occasionally. "Elbows in. Wings open shoulder width apart," finally he came to a stop behind Prowl. He crouched and drew two fingers up to the Praxian's valve cover and teased the panel; half feeling for heat and half enticing Prowl.

Prowl accepted the corrections gratefully, field settling as he adjusted his position, happy that Jazz was using the prod without shocking him. He shivered at the touch to his valve cover, heat gathering in his core and waiting for release. He didn't rock back though, only let his arousal bleed into his field. He was trained to keep it tightly controlled so he could use it for crowd control, and he made use of that skill now to fill the berthroom with his anticipation and pleasure, even though his frame remained in the position Jazz had nudged him into.

Jazz let out a low laugh, allowing one servo to rub along the curve of Prowl's aft. "Alright then, if you're that egar open. Both panels." Jazz stood back up, giving Prowl the chance to open while he moved back to Prowl's front. He crouched again, this time tapping the stick on Prowl's cheek. 

"Alright sorcerer. You've got yourself all exposed with your aft up. We're going to start easy. You're gonna hold very very still. If I see a twitch, I'm gonna have to punish you. Alright? It's time to focus."

Prowl did as told, glad for the permission and the low level worry that dropped out of his processing cue. Chances were, whatever Jazz was planning would make it impossible to keep his array contained and he'd rather not get in trouble for baring himself without permission. Still, it felt weird, having both spike and valve displayed when he wasn't thrumming with arousal yet, and Jazz was moving away. He turned his optics to focus on Jazz as well he could without moving his helm. The way Jazz spoke to him was having a most peculiar effect on Prowl. It was a mix between familiar training speak, and a dangerous edge that was pure demonic power, and it sent conflicting messages to both his interfacing systems and his training mindset. 

"Yes, sir," he acknowledged all the same and braced himself for whatever Jazz planned to do next, palms flat to the ground and back strut tight so he wouldn't move.

"good mech," Jazz chirped. The instructions seemed to come naturally to Prowl. It was somewhat a rush for Jazz; to have a mech so obedient at his pedes willingly. It wasn't the same as owning a sorcerer; he had been to enough parties to know exactly what that looked like. Prowl lacked the vacant resignation to his position, instead replaced with an attentive focus. It was addicting. 

Jazz moved around prowl once again, this time turning on the vibrator on before reaching Prowl's array. He started standing, dragging the vibrator over Prowl's array carefully. Slowly he moved down and laid the vibrator over the sorcerer's spike. With his other servo, he immediately pushed two fingers into the valve presented to another. He purred, flaring his field out for Prowl to feel his excitement and arousal.

Prowl's processor greedily took in the praise, though he didn't let it tempt his frame into relaxing. Instead he ensured his doorwings stayed splayed open as Jazz had instructed, while his sensor focus followed Jazz around. He felt it when Jazz turned on the vibrator, even before it touched his plating and anticipating entered his field.

At the initial touch Prowl tried to hold back his moan, to keep still and quiet and endure just like he'd done in Enforcer training. But then the realization that he shouldn't hit him. That in fact he was expected to show his pleasure with voice and field for their imagined audience. He groaned and grit his denta so he wouldn't rock back even when the vibrator slid over his spike. Oh how he wanted to rock down against it. To push back against Jazz's servo, fingers sliding in perfectly on the remains of his earlier overload. He wasn't sure if begging was allowed, so he pushed his pleasure and his need into his field, calipers cycling tight around Jazz's fingers, trying to draw them deeper to stimulate nodes that had been neglected in the club. It took a not inconsiderable part of his focus to keep his servos pressed flat to the ground instead of curling them into fists, just as his leg-struts started to tremble minutely at the sudden and intense assault of stimulation.

"Such a good little Praxian," Jazz praised, "Careful now. You seem quite eager and I wouldn't want to have to ruin your charge." He excitedly drank in Prowl's field, feeding his own excitement. He continued stroking the vibrator over Prowl's spike, stopping every so often to let it vibrate against the tip of his spike. It was his fingers in Prowl’s valve that registered the faint tremors that twitched through the enforcer's frame. It was technically movement if jazz wanted to consider it so. But movement so slight should only be given a warning. He pulled his field in tightly, he didn't know how sensitive the enforcer was to field play, but it would still do to make the mech feel a little more uneasy. 

"You're shaking. If you're that desperate, vocalize it. I don't want to have to restrain you but I will if you can't handle training." He actually picked up the pace of his fingers then; he needed to know Prowl's limitations for tomorrow but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun doing it.

Prowl couldn't help the soft whine escaping his vocalizer. It felt like Jazz was directly tapping into his pleasure circuitry, and the teasing words, the thinly veiled threat, only heightened his awareness of the growing burn in his actuators and the tightness in his struts. Feeling Jazz's field retreat, instead of heaping even more sensations into his poor pleasure starved systems, had Prowl worrying and when Jazz mentioned the shaking it even seemed to pick up. 

"I'm sorry, sir," was the first thing he got out, interspersed with loud moans. "Please, please, it feels so good. Please sir." Prowl used every spare processor thread to override his motor functions. The tremors and shakes kept slipping through, but at least he wasn't rocking his hips back onto Jazz' fingers or grinding his spike down into the blinding pleasure of the vibrator.

"Enough. Enough," Jazz reprimanded. He pulled the vibrator away, flipping it around in one hand to stick the prod end against the lower joint of Prowl's doorwings. It could serve as a small break for Prowl, the way he was shaking looked like the mech really needed it. "You're straining yourself. Relax your legs and hips and the shaking will stop." 

The threat of the prod was there to force the action; too tense and Prowl could make himself sore. Not that it was a bad thing under normal situations, but being ready for tomorrow was more important. Still, Jazz drank in Prowl's pleasured and desperate field, and he had to brush aside several requests to open his own panelling. He forced himself to have some self control. He continued to pump his fingers, not willing to let Prowl completely go without stimulation.

The relief of the loss of the vibration lasted just until the prongs of the shock registered. The enforcer’s entire frame froze, vents stopping as his frame braced for intense pain. He listened attentively, trying to figure out how to relax his legs without losing control of his hips in the process. He continued whining and moaning softly, gasps forcing past his vocalizer. It was a gradual process, and Prowl kept tensing when his motor controls tried to get his knees to move and allow him to rock back and forth. His field still showed his pleasure, but edged now with undercurrents of terror and the need to get this right.

Prowl was a little too scared of the stick for Jazz's liking. It was a correctionary tool; and one that seemed to be doing it's job a little too well. He let the stick go-- allowing it to roll sideways and stuck itself between the enforcers doorwings. It was good enough. He stroked his free hand along the inside of Prowl's thighs. 

"Hey there. I'm gonna need you to reopen your Vents Prowler," Jazz spoke calmly, "I need you to vent properly and then we're going to work on those shakes. You're doing great. I know this is hard." He tried to be encouraging, seeing in which way Prowl responded better.

Feeling the stick roll over his back, shockprongs still close to his wings and the sensitive circuitry between them, had Prowl fighting back a shudder. Don't move, he reminded himself. He manually opened his vents and felt cool air rush over his internals. 

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, faintly embarrassed. The soft touch was helping, giving him a distraction from the pleasure in his valve. Though he feared that it would start overwhelming him again immediately if Jazz stopped.

"You're doing so well," time for a reward, "You can move now but no pulling away." He drove his digits into Prowl, taking the time to scissor them and inspect the valve in front of him. He picked the stick back up once more, turning it to its highest setting and placing the vibrating end against Prowl's spike. 

"You will not overload without permission. You will not move your helm from the floor. And you will not let your legs give out. Is that clear?"

Prowl nodded minutely. "Yes sir," he agreed, faintly embarrassed by the intimate inspection. "May I rock back and forth?" He asked, and shuddered all over as an intense wave of pleasure coursed through his frame from his spike. He was sure he'd have trouble holding back his overload soon, but for now leftover terror and embarrassment were balancing it out. He made sure not to hide any of this from his field, which wasn't as easy as he'd hoped. But he managed all the same.

"You may. They'll like that," Jazz purred, "That arousal. So thick in your field battling with that hint of fear. What a good toy you turned out to be sorcerer." He picked up his pace. There was a point he was looking for; right at the crest of Prowl's self control that he could manipulate. He fought back another harsh wave of requests to simply take Prowl; but that's not this was about. He focused back down on the way he fingered Prowl's valve, mapping nodes to memory he could use in the future if not assault now. He ground the vibrator down against Prowl's spike, with a renewed pressure.

"What a good little sorcerer."

Prowl was glad for the confirmation and let himself fall into an easy rhythm, grinding down into the vibrator and fragging himself back onto Jazz's servos. This was much easier than staying still. He curled his servos against the floor and moaned loudly, field spreading out and wings quivering a bit. Jazz's words, the language he used, sent lances of embarrassed heat through his field. He could see his overload dawning and he made sure to put that into his field as well, the apprehension of having to hold it back.

"Is begging allowed, sir?" He gasped out, hoping for a yes but willing to restrict himself to moaning and begging with his field if he wasn't allowed to verbalize it.

"I told you to vocalize didn't I?" Jazz chuckled, "Beg all you want. I think I'd actually like to see that; an enforcer, begging for a demon. Hm." Jazz let his field out once again, pulsing with approval. He just needed a few more moments of careful attention before he could service himself, just a few more moments of obedience. He let Prowl rock himself back and forth, essentially allowing the mech to self service on his hands. If this was what Prowl was like tomorrow, he had no doubt mechs would love the show; just one more step to completing their mission.

"Thank you," Prowl groaned and continued to rock back and forth, vents blazing and field full of heat. "Please, sir. Please it feels so good," he moaned. His array was sending more and more insistent messages, but Prowl did his best to keep his overload back. It had been a while though, especially with a partner, so it was becoming more and more difficult. Especially if he kept rocking like this. Only he couldn't find the discipline to slow himself down either.

"you beg so pretty,"Jazz purred. Slowly he brought his weight up and against Prowl, letting his thumb graze against his outer node. There was a pick up in his actions, ment to get Prowl as close to an overload as his systems would allow without going over. And then suddenly, without warning, pulled everything away. Jazz pulled back and stood, bringing the stick with him. Prowl continued to rock and plead, vents running full tilt and sprak racing in his chassis. His overload was approaching fast and desperation entered his field as he tried to keep it back, to be good. "Please, sir. I can't. It's too good," he moaned and was weirdly relieved when Jazz stopped. His entire frame thrummed with need, his array was on fire, biolights pulsing fitfully and spike bobbing. But he hadn't overloaded. 

"So so messy. It suits your paint job. Now come. I have another task for you. " Jazz hummed. 

"Thank you, sir," he gasped out and, at the order, turned to follow Jazz. Or crawl where he was pointed. Whichever the case. The weird mix of derision and praise had his field humming with mortified pleasure, but it didn't stop his eagerness to obey, to keep earning praise and maybe even an overload later on.

Jazz sat himself down on the edge of the berth and finally permitted the insistent request of his spike panel to release. He leaned back, letting his fans cycle onto high as he motioned for Prowl to come and kneel between his legs. He laid the training rod beside him on the bed but otherwise left it alone. "Here. You said you weren't used to doing this right? We'll start slow."

Prowl crawled after Jazz optics fixed on the other mech. When Jazz opened his panel Prowl didn't try to hide the spike of lust, or the shudder of his wings and back plating. He moved to kneel between Jazz's thighs and straightened, knees parted, servos on his thighs and optics taking in Jazz's spike. 

"Yes, sir," he agreed, glad to see the rod placed to the side. He wasn't sure if he should just start. If Jazz planned to guide or instruct him. And his processor got stuck trying to determine what the correct course of action should be.

"It's okay not to analyze every movement Prowler," Jazz mumbled. The occasional freeze up hadn't gone past him. But the mech reacted quite well to clear instructions, so that seemed the best course of action. "Start with your tongue. When you feel like you're ready you can take me into your mouth." He touched himself as an encouragement, stroking his spike twice just to watch his biolights dance under the attention. "Go at your own pace. Don't overthink it. "

Prowl was glad for the instructions. "I don't want to disappoint you, sir," he admitted, a trace of embarrassment in his field as he leaned forward to start licking and mouthing at Jazz's spike, working it from base to tip and back, tasting the fluids and following the seams. It was easy to get lost in the motions, the taste and smell tickling his chemoreceptors, and the next time he reached the base of Jazz's spike he didn't overthink, he just leaned that bit further to rub at Jazz's anterior node with his glossa.

Jazz leaned his helm back, moaning lowly as Prowl lapped over his spike. He fought back bucking his hips and forced himself to settle down. He was gentle as he rubbed a servo along Prowl's head in encouragement. 

"Just like that. There you go. Yes. Prowl. My spike." He was so riled up from pleasing the enforcer earlier that even the small stimulation was overpowering. He slowly guided Prowl's head back up to his spike. "Come on enforcer. Suck it like you mean it."

Prowl enjoyed the strokes and readily let himself be guided, doing his best to memorize what got him the best reaction. When Jazz guided him back up he rubbed his glossa over the head, taking in the taste and letting his pleasure fill his field. His optics had grown unfocused and he wrapped his lips around the head of Jazz's spike, working it slowly to get a feel for it, sucking carefully though he was happy to follow Jazz's guidance, the encouragement and filthy praise more than enough to override any hesitation.

"Frag. There you go," Jazz hummed, "such a good little glossa.''Jazz swallowed, forcing himself to remember that this is technically a training session. Slowly, he started bucking his hips up and down. He kept a pace that allowed Prowl to adjust if it became too much; but also allowed Jazz to rut himself into the enforcer's mouth. 

His field dripped with pleasure and he found himself looking down at Prowl's still exposed array. Jazz hummed, "That excess charge bugging you enforcer? Got an issue down there?"

Prowl whined at the praise and did his best to follow Jazz's rhythm. His servos held tight onto his thighs, but his vents were blazing and his field was full of heat. He did his best to take Jazz deeper, though on the harder thrusts he had to pull back or he'd have gagged. He kept receiving obstruction notifications and was sure he was drooling somewhat messily over Jazz's spike. The mention of his own array had Prowl moaning and nodding as best he could. He couldn't beg with his mouth stuffed, but now that he was reminded of it he couldn't push it from his awareness again. He tried bobbing his helm faster, rubbing his glossa over Jazz's spike, hoping that by encouraging Jazz's pleasure he'd get his own in time.

"Fragging good mech." Jazz groaned. He shuttered his optics, letting the pleasure wash over him as Prowl increased his efforts. He wasn't cruel though, and Jazz moved one of his pedes to press against Prowl's array. He reopened his optics and smirked, "Rut against that if you're so desperate. I'm not ready to frag you yet-" he closed his optics, "-Overload and I use the stick again." Jazz moaned again. He forced Prowl's helm still, continuing to buck shallowly for now.

Prowl moaned around Jazz's spike at the pressure to his array and couldn't help grinding down against it. It sent pleasure thick into his field, though he could feel the desperation rising right with it. Especially when Jazz forced his helm to still, so all Prowl could do was moan and swallow and rub his glossa against Jazz's spike. The idea of Jazz fragging him later on was already enough to raise his charge, but the position as well, the visual he would be for their hypothetical audience. And to try and keep some attention on his spellwork at the same time. He whined and dug his fingers into his plating so he wouldn't do something stupid, like grab Jazz's pede to keep it in the perfect position. It was hard enough keeping his overload back as it was 

Jazz threw his head back, "Come on, one last thing Prowler. One last thing and then you can finally finish okay?" Jazz looked back down, optics half shuttered as he took a bit of stronger hold of Prowl's helm. "Relax," he encouraged, "I'm going to put my spike down your intake. Just once. You're going to need to relax your intake and let me move you. You think you can do that?" He pulled Prowl's helm off his spike and waited for a response.

Prowl whined, optics locked to Jazz's. His hips kept jerking, grinding down against Jazz's pede. He didn't fight when Jazz tightened his hold, just kept sucking and shuddering. A flash of heat shot through his field at Jazz's words. He hadn't done that before, though he knew it was possible. He tried to relax his neck and shoulder struts, letting himself turn loose and easy for Jazz to manipulate. He was surprised to be pulled off, and used the chance to lick his lips. 

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I want to try, sir," he added, extending his glossa to try and lick the head of Jazz's spike again.

He smiled, slowly bringing Prowl's helm back onto his spike. The sensation was stronger this time, the small break Makin his anticipation peak. He gave a few small thrusts just to Prowl's mouth before stopping. "Alright. Relax. This is going to feel really awkward." He lowered Prowler's helm down, pushing past the delicate ring at the back of his intake and down into the sensitive passage. He pushed down just far enough to have Prowl's nasal ridge touch Jazz's abdominal plating. His vents hitched as he held Prowl down.\

Prowl did his best to stay relaxed, anticipation building as Jazz just thrust shallowly. He had stilled his hips after all, array pressed firmly against Jazz's pede. He wanted to focus, to be good and relax and override the obstruction warning. Still his throat cabling spasmed and he had to fight down the urge to gag, a whine rising deep in his throat, sending the entire structure to vibrate. He didn't fight though, just tried to swallow or rub his glossa back and forth, servos kneading his thighs so he wouldn't try to pull away. His field was filled with a need to please, as well as a sense of accomplishment, to say nothing of the lingering arousal from his array.

Jazz pet Prowl's head, actually looking down at Prowl with a sort of adoration. The movement had Jazz seeing stars for a click. He allowed the praise to flare into his field. "So good at following orders... Look at you, look at how well you're doing. Do you want that overload finally?" He moaned as he pulled Prowl's helm off his spike. Before moving he smiled down at the mech, spark actually whirling with an emotional spike. He dragged his thumb over Prowl's bottom lip, wiping away the oral lubricant. Prowl was a mess, but jazz loved the look on him. 

"By Unicron, you're amazing."

Prowl basked in the adoration, though he was glad when Jazz pulled him off and he had a chance to let his throat cables contract properly. "Yes, please," he groaned as soon as he was pulled off. He couldn't help but mouth at Jazz's thumb and flush with embarrassment at the praise, dropping his gaze off to the side.

Jazz felt his spark warm again. He wouldn't say so-- couldn't say so. He pulled in his field, unwilling to let his emotions get the best of him. Now was not the time nor the place. Prowl was so obedient, and so good despite this being a new situation for him.

"Come on then. Get on the bed," Jazz commanded, lacking a true harshness to his tone, "lie down on your back. Bring your knees up."

Prowl was confused when Jazz's field retreated, but there was no real reprimand coming, only further instructions. Instructions that he was all too happy to comply with. "Yes, sir," he groaned and used his servos to pull himself up onto the berth. He carefully angled his doorwings as he laid down, splaying them into the sheets. His optics were fixed on Jazz and there was a deep hunger in his field as he spread his legs and pulled his knees up, eager for whatever Jazz wanted to do next.

Jazz pulled himself over Prowl, lining his spike up with Prowl's array. He paused, thinking over the situation for a moment before giving instructions. "Don't put your legs down. This is exactly how I want to frag you. Do not overload unless I say so. And put your servos up by your head. Is that understood?" He rocked himself slowly against the array before him, losing himself between his thoughts and the sensation. He brought a servo over to brush against Prowl's left doorwing, just to admire it.

Prowl's entire frame was trembling in anticipation and he arched his hips up against Jazz's spike before the instructions penetrated. He nodded, dropping his hips back down and raising his servos. 

"Yes, sir," he groaned out, taking hold of the sheets and shifting his legs a little higher so he could better balance it. The stroke to his doorwings sent heat and need through his frame and he didn't try to hold back the needy moan. 

"Please, sir," he begged, sure he wouldn't be able to hold out long if Jazz started in on his doorwings for real.

Jazz buried himself in Prowl quickly. Already so riled up from the enforcer's earlier oral treatment, he wasted no time seeking his own pleasure. He set a brutal pace quickly, Making sure to rub himself against the nodes he had mapped earlier when fingering the mech. He moaned, deep and low followed by a possessive rumble of his engines. 

"Such a good little police bot-" Jazz gasped as he hilted himself once more, "I wonder what your co-workers would think. You-- getting work done by being fragged by a demon. Moaning under one to get your job done. Would they want a turn?"

Prowl moaned, clinging to the sheets and matching Jazz's motions as best he could. The praise had him groan, but at the mention if his co-workers his field soured. Irrationally, it was one thing to get fragged by a demon for an audience of the same, and quite another to be observed by mechs who already considered him odd for the way he worked. He whined, shaking his helm. Chances were some of them would want a turn. Would want to hurt him, debase him, in ways he didn't feel with Jazz, who seemed to relish Prowl's submission. 

"Sir~," he whined, hoping Jazz would back up on the traces of distress and take his talk somewhere else. Though at least it worked to dampen his charge a bit, no matter how perfectly Jazz fragged him.

Jazz almost pulled back for how sour Prowl's field turned, shuddering as whatever it was that bothered the mech pushed him back. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what he had said; the fact he was being dragged by a demon, the co-worker mention or the being shared issue, but he wasn't about to prevent him from finishing. Best to change the script entirely. 

"Frag. Okay yes I get it-" he whined and vented, "You like taking orders little police bot? I bet it's easy knowing exactly what to do, exactly how to act-'' it wasn't his smoothest transition but it would have to do. They could talk about what had happened later.

Prowl groaned, grateful for the change of narrative, and the return of the delicious feeling in his lines whenever Jazz praised him for, essentially, being a good little fragtoy. "Sir," he moaned, valve cycling fitfully around Jazz's spike, optics glued to the demon' faceplate. His charge was quickly rising, pushed along by Jazz's words. But he couldn't let go. Not yet. He bit his lip and whined, sparks jumping between his plating as his charge searched for an outlet. "Sir please," he begged, with voice and field.

"Not yet," Jazz hissed. He brought himself back to toying with Prowl's left wing, even teasing the edge of the glass as he admired it. With his other services he forced Prowl's right knee back, just so he could bury himself a tiny bit further in. "

There we go. Just like this. What a flexible little sorcerer you are. I think this is my favourite trick yet." Prowl had relaxed some, meaning this was the correct way to go for his mouth. He didn't know why, but he could never stop himself from talking during interface. But he was hitting his limit, especially with the better position. He forced himself against Prowl's ceiling node. 

"I think that's enough huh? Your charge is going wild there Prowler. Why don't you overload for me?"

Prowl whined, lost in the pleasure filled haze of getting fragged like this, with Jazz's voice spilling sweetest poison and the demon's servo on his sensitive panel, that perfect spike filling him over and over again. He was keening now, a constant high pitched whine over overstressed systems as Prowl tried to cling to his charge, to let himself to pushed and positioned as Jazz pleased 

"please," Prowl groaned, unsure if he could take that as permission. "Please please may I?"

Jazz laughed, "yes little police bot. Yes." His laugh cut short, as he bit his lip. He WOULD hold on until Prowl gave in. He wouldn't lose the control he was trying so desperately to teach to Prowl. "Let me see you finally release. You've been so good~" he punctured his thrusts as he dove into the cabling of Prowl's neck. He bit gently down onto a main line in an attempt to hold himself back.

Prowl threw his helm back and moaned. It took only a split second to figure out how to let go of the stranglehold on his charge. And after that his system was awash with the sweet release of overload.

"Thank you, sir, thank you," he gasped, interspersed with moans and gasps as his charge crested and burned itself out of his systems, spike covering his front with transfluid while his valve milked Jazz's spike.

Finally, finally he could let go-- he could feel the flood of his own transfluid as it filled Prowl. The overload racked his frame, causing him to still and shiver as his spike pulsed in Prowl. He shut his optics behind his visor, and the entire mechanism dimmed with the release of the charge. He felt for as if he may burn out for a moment; the self denial pushing him over harshly. And then, it calmed. He looked downed at Prowl. The mech was an absolute mess, and a bath seemed a perfect source of after care. "

Can you move?" Jazz purred as he pulled himself off the mech.

Prowl groaned as he felt Jazz's overload, charge crackling between them. He felt loose, sated, and considering the dimming of Jazz's optics the demon likely felt the same. Still, Prowl didn't move from the position he'd been put in, though he did relax his servos so they simply rested on the sheets. At the question he ran a quick check on his motor routines and flushed at the drowsy response he received. Still, he'd worked through worse. 

"If necessary, sir," he answered honestly. He couldn't help a soft whine as Jazz pulled away, leaving his valve empty and likely to start leaking transfluid soon. He missed the heat of Jazz's frame already, which was patently ridiculous.

Jazz pulled Prowl's legs back to a more relaxed position and pulled himself off the bed. He could carry Prowl to the oil bath if he really tried, it wasn't that far anyways. He mustered what strength he could, and placed an arm under Prowl and lifted. It was awkward, especially as he opened the door but eventually he was in the hall and then in the wash racks. He sat Prowl down on the counter. "You're a mess," Jazz hummed. He turned to a solvent tub and turned on the water to start filling it. "Just relax for a little. Okay?"

Prowl hadn't imagined Jazz would carry him. He gasped and wrapped his arms around Jazz's neck, faintly embarrassed. Especially since, now that he was coming down from the overload he realized just how sticky he was. He flushed at Jazz's comment, but settled on the counter and watched Jazz work, faintly confused with the whole thing. Not that he minded it. 

"Yes sir," he agreed and relaxed against the wall behind him, doorwings carefully canted to keep away, legs splayed so he wouldn't accidently put pressure on his still tender array.

The demon tested the temperature of the water, slowly running his fingers through it as it filled and making sure it was warm but not hot. Prowl seemed happy to stay in his submissive mindset for now, and Jazz didn't exactly mind. The mech was pliant, relaxed and it seemed like a good place for him to be mentally. When the bath filled to a decent level he turned the tap off. He moved back to Prowl and picked him up once more and lowered him into the water. "There we go. Time to clean you."

A bath was a luxury Prowl didn't get to indulge in often, so he watched eagerly as Jazz filled the tub. He likely would have been able to walk, his legs felt much firmer. But Jazz didn't ask or order it, so Prowl simply held on tight and sighed happily as warm water enveloped him. It wasn't too hot, even on tender components, and he nodded in agreement. 

"We should," he said, taking in the streaks of lubricant on Jazz's plating. He slipped one servo into the water to start rubbing at his plating, keeping well away from his array for a moment so the water could do its job first.

Jazz grabbed a soft brush and sat behind him, pulling up a stool. He let affection flare out into his field as he planted a soft kiss on the back of Prowl's helm. He didn't mean to be so touchy but he felt particularly affectionate after a scene. It was a toss up to how Prowl preferred his aftercare but he hoped the bath and maybe a cuddle would do. He made an effort to be gentle along his doorwings, but making sure to get in between the joints. 

Jazz wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do, and as he came down from the pleasure high his processor was becoming more and more active. He carefully worked the lubricant and transfluid off his plating and out of his seams. The affectionate touches felt nice though, so he didn't try to stop Jazz. 

"You know you don't have to, right?" He asked nevertheless. The bottle was accepted and Prowl uncapped it to test the smell. It was nice. Certainly better than what he used at home. And wouldn't leave him smelling horribly. Presumably it was what Jazz used, so maybe it might even be beneficial for their cover for him to smell like Jazz. 

Jazz offered Prowl a bottle of scented cleanser. "Don't know what you use at home but is this okay?"

"It's good," Prowl agreed.

Jazz paused his motions. "What do you mean I don't have to do this?" Jazz purred, wrapping his arms around Prowl. Was Prowl not used to this kind of thing? Oh. Wait. The enforcer hadn't even had experience sucking a spike before. Of course he didn't know what this was. "This is normal after intense play Prowl. It's a way to make sure you're okay. Pamper you a bit after straining yourself," He kissed the top of his helm again, "Your emotional subroutines might be a mess-- Everyone is different. If there is something you need. Tell me. Plus, it gives me the chance to be all cuddly as my emotions get all sorted out."\

"It is?" Prowl asked for clarification. True, Enforcers were only called in when things had gone horribly wrong. Especially the sorcerer units. But what did it say that apparently a demon knew things mechs didn't bother with. He nodded. Jazz's words sounded quite reasonable. He leaned back into the embrace and tentatively raised a servo to pat at Jazz's arm, unsure if he was expected to return the affection. 

"The bath is nice," he assured Jazz. "I don't have a tub in my apartment."

"Yeah. A mech who frags you like that and leaves is an aft," Jazz explained. "I thought it might be nice on your sensitive equipment. You're welcome to take one any time you want. If you don't want the help I can go." Primus he didn't want to. It was a compulsion somewhat, to take care of Prowl after everything and to keep him relaxed for a while longer. And in truth he just wanted to be around the mech. But if he needed space Jazz wouldn't argue. He pulled back and returned to cleaning Prowl's back.

"No," Prowl said quickly. The idea of having Jazz leave had his spark size up. "Please stay," he requested. "

It was a good idea. And I like sharing it with you." He arched his doorwings a bit, giving Jazz better access to make it clear he really did enjoy Jazz's presence.

Jazz's spark lurched happily in his casing. He moved to wiping Prowl's windows with a small cloth. "There's one more thing. You had a moment, you didn't like something I said. Now you don't have to say why, but I do want to know what it was. Please. So I don't do it again. "

Prowl considered, rubbing absently at his plating as he thought back to the phrase. He pulled a face as he remembered. "You mentioned my co-workers," he sighed, feeling a bit more tense. "They would have appreciated seeing me like that. But not the way you do." He explained, hoping it made sense, though he'd elaborate if Jazz asked. He'd rather speak about this now than have it come up with an audience tomorrow.

Jazz thought for a moment. Prowl had been beautiful, calm and focused. Any mech with a working processing would appreciate the way that looked. He could at least be Happy with the fact it wasn't the fact Jazz was a demon that bugged him. 

"You and your co-workers got issues or something? You know you're sacrificing a lot for this job right? They'd be nuts not so see that"

"Some do," he sighed. "But some mostly delight in seeing me fail. Which happens rarely enough they'd jump at an opportunity to frag me over. Literally. " he said wryly. He focused most of his processor on washing himself and enjoying Jazz's touch, unwilling to spare much for the long held grudges.

"Alright. I won't push." Jazz didn't stop himself from musing over a few ideas though. If Prowl's deal was still on the table reguarding more full time employment, it would be funny to follow Prowl around the office just to show off. It would be petty, but Jazz was a higher rank, and a mech that could be intimidating if needed. It would be funny to show off Prowl's power like that. He let his mind wander as he reached around Prowl and slid a hand down his front. 

"Your array okay? Not too over-stimulated?" Jazz asked.

Prowl nodded. "Thank you. But if you need more details to prepare for tomorrow, please ask," he added and relaxed into Jazz's touch. The servo sliding down his front had him flush a bit. 

"Still tender," he admitted. "But there are no errors, or even warnings. Just lingering… awareness." He didn't stop Jazz's servo. He wasn't sure what Jazz was planning, but he figured it would be just as careful and well reasoned as everything else he'd done tonight.

He laid a hand on Prowl's valve. He held it still just to asses any left over swelling. "You're okay. Just some over active sensors it seems." Jazz pulled back, thinking for a moment. "I'm not going to bring up your personal life tomorrow. The less they know about you the better." He did move to drain the water, turning on a spray head to rinse over Prowl one last time. 

"Have you thought about what you want to do when this is over? About the contract I mean."

Prowl shivered at the touch, but Jazz sas gentle and his final pronouncement eased Prowl's processor. He rose to his pedes when Jazz turned on the spray so his plating could be rinsed completely. By now his legs were steady again. He considered Jazz's question and shook his helm. 

"Not as such," he admitted. "First I would have to report to my superiors. And then see where I would be assigned next. Though," he bit his lip. "I wouldn't mind working with you again. At least based on how this mission has been going."

"Ah," Jazz frowned, "So it depends what they put you on. " He ran the shower head over Prowl, thinking that over. "I can still visit if you wish. " Hopeful. He was getting too hopeful with Prowl around. He turned off the shower head and offered Prowl a towel silently past that.

"It's up to the discretion of the sorcerer how they complete their cases," Prowl agreed. "And, unlike some of my colleagues, I don't summon demons for every little thing. You are welcome to visit me though," Prowl added. He accepted the towel and started drying his plating. He'd have to look over his plating and see about decorating.

Jazz stood and let Prowl finish cleaning himself off. "And what if. Now I'm talking hypothetically here. You know. I wanted to get an actual job?" Jazz moved to the standing washracks himself, avoiding optic contact as he turned on the spray and waited for it to warm.

Prowl frowned, frame stilling as he considered. He had to access some deep files but in the end he shrugged, a wry smile on his faceplate. "There is no law preventing it. Of course there is also no precedent, except in legends, of demons having regular jobs. It is presumed that they only work on a contract basis when summoned," he explained. He watched Jazz shower and wondered if he should offer to help. If he wanted to help, instead of simply admiring from where he stood.

Jazz stepped into the spray. He was plenty powerful enough, that eating sparks any less powerful then someone like Prowl's didn't have much of an apeal any more. It was a stupid idea anyways. In the sorcerer realm he was no more than a tool; and if he wasn't a tool he was evil. "A job is just a long term contract paid on a monthly basis." Still he frowned. "If you want, there's a guest room beside the one we were just in if you wish to sleep alone tonight. If not, I'll be in to clean in a moment and we can curl up. "

Prowl nodded but didn't move. On the one hand, sleeping next to a demon was foolish. On the other hand, he wouldn't be able to sleep in a guest room. "I'd prefer sharing your berth. Though, how much time will we have tomorrow? I might have to spend some time on my finish and supplies if I need to be painted and bedazzled tomorrow..."

"We'll have a few hours to get ready but you may want to start on the Jewelry tonight." Jazz was quick to wash himself down, and for a moment just let the spray fall over his faceplates. "I think I have some Jewelry from some Nobel I picked off you can rip apart. I don't think I've every actually worn it if I'm being honest." Eventually rinsed, and stepped out of the washracks. "Is there anything else you need for it?"

"Some help with placing the gems," Prowl admitted. "I don't have much of an optic for it, beside making sure it's symmetric. And maybe some mild adhesive." He'd also have to check his paint, self repair was prone to remove the paint on his sorcerer glyphs. But that could wait until tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you! we would love to read your comments!


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